Blood Games
by The Queen of Heartless
Summary: The 25th Hunger Games. The tributes were voted in by their family and friends, like lambs to the slaughter. The bloodiest games in the history of Panem are about to begin - and the tributes are the most hated people in the districts. The rebels, the outcasts, the psychos...ladies and gentlemen, let the Games begin.
1. District 1 & 2 Reapings

**A/N: Hey everyone. I am not copying Maddie Rose because I AM Maddie Rose. I am redoing my entire Hunger Games trilogy, starting with Blood Games. Please do review.**

* * *

**DISTRICT 1**

**Cassie Leigh Night**

I'm so nervous that I'm nearly shaking, but I know I have to be strong. We don't stand in our age sections, because this year's different. This year, everything changes. They're voting for us. I can't explain the fear that holds me tight, tugging me deeper and deeper inside myself. Shane, my best friend, gives me an encouraging smile and squeezes my hand in an effort to reassure me. It doesn't work. He can see how scared I am. Who in their right mind wouldn't fear the Hunger Games?

Shane won't be picked, of that I'm sure. A lot of people like him, because of his kindness. I know what he's like because when my parents died in a house fire earlier on this year, he offered for me to stay with him and his family. First I didn't, as I was too proud, but then…then I came to realise that I was fourteen, and way too young to be living alone. I swallowed back everything I used to be and I _changed_, like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. I emerged from my cocoon and I trusted in Shane, never once looking back.

Radiance Fair, the District 1 escort, moves silently to the podium and starts speaking in a bleak tone, lying through her teeth that it's great to be here. Behind her, the most recent District 1 victor, a young man in his twenties named Heath Fallicoat, watches with a grim expression. It's not reassuring when even the people who are supposed to be raising our spirits seem to be reluctant about the whole thing.

"I think we'll start with the girl," Radiance says, reaching into the glass bowl for the single slip of paper that lies there. It's always the girls first, like 'ladies first' is some kind of politeness, like it's doing us a favour. My stomach is tight with apprehension. There's every chance that it might be me. I'm not well known within the district. People know my name, my face – but they don't know _me._

I tuck a strand of wavy black hair out of my face, brushing the stud in my nose as I do so. It's always like this, every year. The tension that seems to bring together a nation, because no one knows who is going into that arena, if they're going to come home. A lot of the time, one of our tributes comes home alive. We're trained to fight, to kill. Except last year, they didn't. Both of our tributes died. Someone from District 2 won the Games, a boy with a handsome face and a sour expression. This year I hope one of ours wins.

"Cassie Leigh Night."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. My bright blue eyes – which Shane often teases me about and calls them "baby blue" – widen in shock. My knees have turned to jelly. What? It can't be possible. I thought this was probably going to happen, but it's totally different to actually being _picked_; actually realising your district doesn't care if you die. Shane places a hand on my shoulder, looking upset, and steers me out.

I begin that walk of doom up to the podium. We're a Career district, one of the well-off districts that can afford good food and don't have starving people. Between us, District 2 and District 4, the other districts very rarely have a victory. The odds of having a victor from our district are quite high. The odds, as they say, are in our favour. The only problem is, I don't think they're in mine.

* * *

**Jordan Falconhearst**

Oh, great. Simply fantastic. I toss my sand-coloured hair out of my turquoise eyes as I continue to run down the streets, panting with exertion. I'm late for the Reaping and that's not a good thing. Not good at all. I know these Games are different, because Luka Marinette and I have talked about it a lot. Luka's my fiancé. We're going to get married soon. It's not that I don't have enough money – I have plenty, because although my parents are dead they were wealthy and left everything they had to me – it's that we want to wait until we're both old enough. I'm seventeen and Luka's a year younger. We'll wait until Luka's eighteen.

Everyone's in the Square now. I squeeze through the crowd to get to my friends. There's a lot of us, all different ages. It's a big group. Jerid McKartner turns and grins at me, beckoning me over. He's standing next to Kourtnie Everwater. I restrain a laugh. Everyone knows that Jerid adores Kourtnie.

"You're late," Luka accuses me as I stand next to her, but her eyes are glittering. I know that she's nervous. I place a hand on her shoulder. Luka has no need to worry. She won't be picked, that's for sure. This Game is a Quarter Quell. You see, because it's the 25th Games, the Capitol has decided that every 25 years the Games will be…special. So everyone from our district had to vote for who they wanted in the Games. It still left a horrible taste in my mouth.

"They've already picked the girl," another of my friends, Gray Ravenson, mutters.

I look up to the podium. The girl there is younger than me, probably fourteen. She's chewing on her lip and looks as if she's about to cry. I recognise her vaguely, but I can't put a name to her face. I frown and watch as our escort, a beautiful, solemn woman named Radiance Fair, pulls out the boy's name. For a moment, I catch my breath.

"Gabriel Fallstar."

Oh, no. I watch as Luka's eyes widen in horror. That's her twelve-year-old half-brother. Gabriel gulps and walks towards the podium and I look at him and remember just how small he is. He'd be lucky to pass for ten let alone twelve. I look at Luka and I think she sees it in my eyes, because she opens her mouth to say something…too late.

"I volunteer!" I practically gasp, lunging towards Gabriel and gripping him by the shoulders, "I…I volunteer."

Radiance raises her eyebrows, looking surprised by this. I know why Gabriel was chosen. He's a quiet kid. He doesn't really associate with the others much, so they don't like him. But a twelve-year-old in the Games? I've watched the Games since I can remember. A twelve-year-old has never lived to become the victor. Gabriel would not survive.

I'm not doing this for Gabriel, though. I turn around and glance at Luka, who is watching me with her beautiful silver-blue eyes wide and her mouth open in a gape of horror. She can't believe what I've just done. Neither can I, for that matter.

* * *

**DISTRICT 2**

**Aloe Templare**

"Come on, girl, get UP!"

I feel the sheets ripped from my clutches and I shoot up, glaring at my adoptive father, Niel Dodson. He has an unimpressed look on his face. I remember what day it was with a thrill of apprehension and I jump out of bed as Niel leaves the room. Niel adopted me about three years ago. My parents died when I was really young and I was sent to the orphanage, where I didn't fit it. I fought with all the other kids, but Niel – a victor from the 5th Hunger Games – saw promise in me and trained me to be a Career in the Hunger Games.

I rush across to the mirror and although it sounds vain, I'm not too unhappy with what I see. I'm really tall, taller than most boys my age. My hair is platinum blonde and my eyes are dark blue. I'm a little disappointed with my figure though. I'm thin for a sixteen-year-old girl, and a little lacking in the curves department.

After a hurried breakfast, Niel and I head down to the Square. There is an almost excited buzz in the air today. District 2 is probably the district that looks forward to the Games the most. Our tributes, along with those of Districts 1 and 4, are notorious for being victors. In fact, looking up to the podium, I can see last year's victor, a seventeen-year-old boy called Praetor Lawson. I have to admit, he's pretty cute. As well as him is our escort, Shadow Gloom. He's just like his name – secretive. He doesn't ever smile really.

Shadow starts rattling off the usual speech about how good it is to be here, but I'm not even listening. I'm sizing up the competition, wondering if I'll be picked. The kids in other districts might shit a brick if they were chosen for the Games, but not me. I actually think it would be pretty cool. I've been fighting my entire life. So what's to stop me winning?

"The female tribute is…" Shadow reaches down and grabs out the sole piece of paper in the glass bowl. "Aloe Templare."

Wow. What a surprise – not. I know Niel's probably got a hand in this, not that I really care. I know why the district has voted for me. It's because I stand a chance. So I allow myself to smile as I walk towards the podium.

I'm going to win these Games. I'm sure of it. After all, who has fought like I have?

* * *

**Dain Winters**

Ah, the Hunger Games. I'm eighteen, so it's my last chance. They haven't called me up yet. It's always a snivelling little boy or some vicious brute who actually thinks that strength alone will have them win the Games. Idiots, the lot of them.

Well, I'll show them that I can actually win the Games. I've been trained for this my entire life. As well as that, I live in a district that specializes in weapons and medicine – so I know a lot more about foods in the arena than the other pathetic tributes will.

I watch as Aloe Templare makes her way up to the podium. I size her up and find myself smirking. Oh, yeah. I know Aloe a little – she was adopted by Niel Dodson, one of District 2's victors. Another victor, Praetor, sits up on-stage. He's a year younger than me, but I've seen him fight. He's good. It's no wonder he won the Games last year – because he was completely ruthless.

Aloe's about two years younger than me. I'll kill her if I have to, but I'd rather leave it up to someone else. Not because I care about her in any way, but because I don't want to waste my time with her while I could be gutting a District 4. She's a fighter, but she's nowhere near as good as me. Not even having been adopted by Niel.

I'm getting bored by this whole thing. Shadow goes to read out the boy's name and I roll my eyes and step forward, not out of any pity for the would-be outcast who'd be chosen, but because this is my last year. I'm going to give these people a show like they've never seen. They thought the Hunger Games was bloody and brutal? I'll show them violent. I'll show them cruel. I'll give them a spectacle they'll never forget.

"I volunteer."

Shadow looks down at the paper and then across at me, a little startled. I smirk then, because that's when I realise it's MY name on the paper. The district knows what I'm like. They know I have the ability to win these Games.

I swagger up to the podium and stand beside Aloe. She's sizing me up, trying to figure out what kind of opponent I'll be. I give her a disdainful glance and just shake my head.

"I hope you don't think you stand a chance, Templare. Against the other districts, maybe. Against me? No way."


	2. District 3 & 4 Reapings

**A/N: A huge thank to those who have reviewed so far!**

* * *

**DISTRICT 3**

**Jenna Camyrielle**

I feel sick to my stomach, as I do every year. Only this year, it was worse. Because the Capitol has declared that the districts would have to vote for their tributes. I can't imagine anything more horrible. Those poor people who would be picked.

I swallow the hard lump that's in my throat and turn around to glance back at my parents, who both give me encouraging smiles as if to say 'it won't be you'. But that's what all the parents in District 3 want to think. Two families are going to have a dark day today. I turn back to face the front. I stand in my allocated section with the other fifteen-year-olds as the District 3 escort, Ellisepeth Peruvian, drones about the usual. I've tuned out by this stage. I don't really want to listen.

"Ladies first." Ellisepeth attempts a smile. Really, I shouldn't dislike her. It's not her fault. She's just the one drawing out the name of the most unpopular girl in District 3. Her lips are moving as she reads the name out, but it's like she makes no sound.

Because the name she reads out is Jenna Camyrielle. District 3 voted for me. I walk like a zombie up towards the podium. The district probably thinks me a laughing stock, with my curly black hair and electric green highlights in it that match my eyes. In fact, I don't know what they think of me. I just know that they voted for me.

"Congratulations, Jenna." Ellisepeth is still smiling as I stand on the stage. I want to throw up. I can feel the bile rising in my throat, but I force it back. I won't show the whole of Panem that I'm weak. I can do gymnastics and karate. I can fight…but will it be good enough?

* * *

**Donnicon Wayland**

I turn up at the Reaping early. I mean, it's not like I have anything better to do. I fidget uncomfortably along with the rest of the twelve-to-eighteen-year-olds. Heck, I'm not from District 1, 2 or 4. I don't want to be part of the Hunger Games. It's been like this every year since I was twelve. Now I'm seventeen and it's hard to remind myself that this is only the second-last year. I don't have to put up with this constant trepidation for much longer.

The girl's called up. Jenna or something. I recognise her because of those ridiculous green highlights in her hair. That's all I really know about her. Jenna is a few years below me in school and keeps mostly to herself. Up at the podium, she's gone incredibly pale and for a moment there, I think she's about to be sick. Then she forces a smile and shakes Ellisepeth's hand.

Now it's time for the boy's name. It's almost painfully slow as Ellisepeth reaches into the other glass bowl and draws out the boy's name. I clench my hands into fists so tight that my nails dig into my palms.

"Donnicon Wayland."

I'm thinking furiously as I move towards the stage. I'm not a total loss. I can rig trips and explosives. I might not be able to fight, but maybe I won't need to. I'm clever enough to come up with alternative solutions. All I can hope is that I won't come up against some brutish Career. Or better still, I could make an alliance with the Career pack. It's happened in the past…

I look across at Jenna. She's terrified. I attempt a smile, but I'm not really a social person. I'm good at staying away from people and so is she. I don't know if she's good or not. I'll have to make a note of the best tributes and make an alliance with them. Normally, it's the Careers. They win almost all the time.

At least there's no one to care. My parents died when I was young, so I practically taught myself everything that I know. It's a common story, I know. I don't know how to fight – I can use a bow and arrow if I have to, but that's about it.

"Hi," whispers Jenna, and for a moment I can't think what to say. I'm speechless because this girl is both my comrade and my rival. If it's down to just me and her in the Games, I wonder who would win? "You nervous, too?"

I just shrug. I don't want Jenna seeing my weakness, seeing how much I'm shaking. I hope I'm not as pale as she is.

"A little, I guess."

Nervous? Huh, that's an understatement. Like Jenna, I'm terrified.

* * *

**DISTRICT 4**

**Tea Ryan**

I wring the water out of my soaking wet brown curls as I head towards the Square. Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have been swimming right before the Reaping – especially since I'm so cold now – but I always get nervous around this time of year. I'm sixteen, so I still have a few more years to go before I don't need to worry about the Reaping.

I smile at my friends as I take my place in my section, my heart thumping in my chest. We're supposed to celebrate the Hunger Games like they're a victory. In reality, I don't see it as anything more than the Capitol's cruelty. Whatever happened during the Dark Days, it's the past now. It happened years before I was born. Why can't they give it up?

There's the big speech of course, but none of the teenagers listen. We're all too busy worrying that we'll go into the Games. Sure, we're Careers like District 1 and 2…but we're nowhere near as bloodthirsty as them. Well…most of the time.

"Who do you think will be reaped this year?" I whisper to my best friend Amazon, who's standing right beside me looking just as apprehensive as I feel. She just shrugs and we remain there in silence as our escort, Alethea Snare, crosses to the podium and reaches a taloned hand into the big glass bowl that contains the name of the most voted-for District 4 girl. You could have heard a coin drop it was so quiet.

"Tea Ryan."

She pronounces my name wrong, which makes me dislike her instantly. She says it as TE-AH, instead of the way it's supposed to be pronounced which is TAY-UH. Amazon spins me around and hugs me tight, then pushes me a little towards the podium as she bites her lip.

I don't dare to look back, because stupid as it sounds, I'll probably cry. Instead I hold my head high. I will be a Career, no doubt about that. I know enough to stay alive…the only question is, for how long? I look across at Alethea, watching with wide eyes as she reaches into the bowl for the boy's name.

* * *

**Falcon Martins**

I'm standing with the other eighteen-year-olds when Tea's name is called out. I know why she was picked even if she doesn't. She's the sort of girl who might actually survive the Hunger Games. Suddenly, I'm paranoid that I'm going to be chosen, and I don't want that. I think of my family, who I'd have to leave behind.

My parents, Marlow and Janella. My older sister Tirza. Machaella, who had lost her friend to the Games. The twins, Hadley and Julian, quiet and withdrawn. My adoring brother Frederick. My mute sister, Dana – better known as Whisper.

Then there were others. My cousin, Tanner. He'd already lost his parents. He didn't need to lose me as well. My friends – Derek Tharn, the class clown. Connor Daytona, Mr Popularity. He certainly wouldn't be picked for the Games. His little sister Belle, who has a crush on Julian…although he doesn't know this.

Oh and the one person I could never forget – my girlfriend, Parthenope Amilis. I love her with all my heart…and if I was picked, I don't know how she would cope. But at the same time…well, I'm conflicted. Because I know what winning the Games means. There would be a future for me, a future beyond being a fisherman. I don't want that. So before I even know what I'm doing, I'm stepping forward, gasping, "I volunteer!"

Parthenope is looking at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am crazy. It's too late to turn back though. Alethea's lips curve into a smile and Tea looks somewhat pained as I make my way up to the podium. Alethea looks me over. I'm tall and healthy. She can't argue with that.

"What is your name?"

I stare at my feet. "Falcon Martins."

I look around to face the crowd. In the group of seventeen-year-olds, Parthenope's hands are clasped over her mouth, and she's crying. I know then that I've let her down.


	3. District 5 & 6 Reapings

**A/N: Yay! A huge thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing this, it's great to know that this rewrite hasn't been in vain. Please, keep up the good work, and I'll try and update as quickly as possible!**

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**DISTRICT 5**

**Artemis Palein**

I gulp as we head towards the Square. My older brother, Apollo, squeezes my arm. His eyes, brown like mine, are racing with emotion. I force a smile as we move through the assembling throng. I don't want to admit that I've already lost hope, but I know most of the girls in District 5 don't like me. They take my silence for snobbery and think I'm turning my nose up at them.

"It's okay, sis," Apollo gives me a fierce hug as he heads over to the eighteen-year-old section. I don't like being separated from him, even for a short amount of time. Since our parents died last year, Apollo is all I have left. I rely on him for protection, and he relies on me for strength.

I head over to the sixteen-year-old section. At 5"9, I tower over most of them, tall for a girl my age. I don't have many friends, so most of the girls there are whispering and shooting me death glares. I try to ignore them, but lately it's getting harder. I feel like I'm going to snap.

Our escort, Rhubar Trinidad, is a very enthusiastic man. He raises his arms as if expecting cheers from the audience. Only few make some noise, but today is a grim day. Two people are going to leave District 5 for the Capitol, and at least one of them won't be coming back.

As Rhubar rambles on about the history of Panem, I just feel like screaming. Why do they always do this? I wish that he would just read out the names of the tributes and get it over with. I want to know who our district voted for, although I feel like I already know the answer.

"Ladies before gents," Rhubar beams, scrabbling around in the glass bowl and pulling out the girl's name. He peers intently at the paper – he's probably had eye surgery, while most of us in District 5 can't afford glasses most of the time – and then looks up. "Artemis Palein."

I hang my head and I walk towards the podium as quickly as I can. I just want to get this over and done with. Rhubar is giving me a winning smile as if this is an achievement to be proud of. I try and force my mouth to smile, but it's not working. Because then Rhubar is walking back towards the boy's bowl and suddenly, I have a sick feeling in my stomach.

* * *

**Apollo Palein**

I watch my baby sister walks up to the podium and I hold my breath. No, this isn't right. It should have been me. I could have teamed up with the Careers – not that I would ever let Artemis know that – and I could possibly have won. Now it's my sister going into the Games…

I spike up my blond hair as I always do when I'm nervous. It's so different to Artemis's auburn hair. Our eyes are what we have in common – both that and the fact we're both really tall. I'm easily 6"3, taller than most other boys my age. Artemis isn't strong enough for this. She's fidgeting around up at the podium and when Rhubar reaches into the boy's bowl, it's almost as if she can sense what's coming next, because her face is suddenly a picture of horror.

"Apollo Palein." Rhubar sounds confused. Everyone turns to look expectantly at me. This is the first time in the history of the Hunger Games that a brother and sister have participated in the same Game, from any district. It's not a first I'm glad about.

"No!" cries Artemis before she can stop herself, her eyes wide with horror before she bursts into tears. At first, I think it's just because she's fretting about me going into the Games as well. I walk up to towards the podium, my feet dragging. I don't want this, but I don't not want it either. That doesn't make much sense, does it?

I reach the podium and by this time Artemis is sobbing uncontrollably. I look at her and suddenly I'm horrified as I realise the real reason she's crying. It's not because we're both going to the Games. It's because she knows it can't be both of us coming back. At least one of us is going to die in the Hunger Games.

* * *

**DISTRICT 6**

**Lyssa Oak**

You'd think that fifteen would be too young to die. But the Capitol has decreed that if you're over the age of twelve, you're never too young to die. So that's why, every year, a girl and boy are taken from District 6 – and all the other districts around Panem. Most of the time, ours don't come back alive…although we do have some victors.

One of these victors is Spencer Greaves, who was in the 2nd Hunger Games. He's easily in his late thirties and looks totally bored with the proceedings. In some ways, I pity him. He has to watch all these teenagers leave our district and know that most of them won't be coming back.

So I stand here among the fifteen-year-olds, waiting in apprehension for Diamondixia Lire – our young, pretty and all-too-bubbly escort – finishes babbling on about the history of Panem and flashes the crowd a dazzling smile as she reaches into the glass bowl to seal the doom of one of District 6's girls.

"This year's girl tribute is the lovely Lyssa Oak!"

Shit. That's me. I forget how to breathe for a moment, before I plaster a smile across my face. I'm good at lying, at playing pretend. So that's exactly what I'm going to do now. My heart's trying to beat its way free of my chest, but I ignore it. I hold my head high and continue to keep the stupid, fake grin on my face as I walk towards my doom.

Diamondixia pulls me into a quite unorthodox embrace as I reach the podium. I force myself not to slap the stupid woman. What does she think this is? Doesn't she take her job seriously? I've seen enough of the Hunger Games to last me a lifetime. Last year it was that District 2 boy, Praetor Lawson, who won. He was completely ruthless. The year before that, the District 4 girl – I've forgotten her name – killed her district partner in order to win.

"Give it up for Lyssa Oak!"

Only one or two people clap. Diamondixia's smile falters a little, but she doesn't let it deter her. I look out over the crowd, knowing one of the boys is going to be chosen next. I keep the smile on my face, because I know the cameras are everywhere. Let it be known that Lyssa Oak is not a coward. If I'm going into the Games, I'm going to at least pretend that everything's alright.

* * *

**Wolf Merritt-Bice**

I watch as Lyssa Oak practically saunters towards the stage with a huge smile across her face. I can tell that it's fake, but I don't know if anyone else can. I know I stand a good chance of being the boy picked, because a lot of people in District 6 don't like me. I think it's got to do with the fact that many of them are jealous of my intelligence.

I look over Lyssa carefully. She's small, with brown hair, brown eyes and freckles. Nothing really spectacular. I don't know her well enough to be able to judge her, but she's a year or two below me in school and I remember her winning an award for something not long ago.

Diamondixia, that fool, is still smiling radiantly as if anyone actually gives a damn. After she hugs Lyssa, who looks puzzled, the escort crosses over to the boy's bowl. I stand to attention among the other seventeen-year-olds. Here goes nothing.

"Wolf Merritt-Bice."

So, it is me after all. The other eyes me warily as I push my way past and make my way towards the stage. I'm…I'm not quite sure how I should be feeling. I'm scared – hell, who isn't? – but at the same time, I'm almost excited. Not really, because I don't want to die, but perhaps I'll live. I could be the victor District 6 is looking for.

Diamondixia makes Lyssa and I shake hands. I'm just glad she didn't hug me. She stinks of vanilla and I might have choked. Lyssa's eyes are burning and her grip is tight on my hand. She's a fair bit smaller than me, but somehow, I'm not crossing her off just yet. She could be really good.


	4. District 7 & 8 Reapings

**A/N: I know that these chapters don't have much in the way of new content, but they're just the reapings so hopefully you bear with me. A huge thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing, you make me want to update!**

* * *

**DISTRICT 7**

**Teryn Dazzle**

I'm glad that Dad's not here. He's off on some Peacekeeper duty, busy as usual. Normally he'd come to the Reaping, but I suppose his responsibilities can't wait. Still, he made me wear a dress. I hate wearing dresses, but at the Reaping, I'll make an exception…and that's only because Dad practically forces me to, in any case.

My best friend, Nico Higgans, stands next to me. He nudges me and jerks his head towards our district's escort, Fathnir Maximal. His hair is an astonishing shade of violet-blue that can't possibly be real. Nico seems to think so too, because he's smirking.

"What's the bet that it's a wig?"

I nudge Nico right back. It's the Reaping. It's not cool to make jokes today. We both lapse into silence as Fathnir starts going on about the history of Panem, how the districts rebelled against the Capitol – hence the Hunger Games. Only this year's Games, as we all knew only too well, were very different. Lethally so. Suddenly, I'm afraid. I clutch at Nico's hand. He inhales sharply and glances across at me, but he doesn't let go. I think he's scared, too. Neither of us is exactly popular in the district. I'm viewed as a brat and Nico is too.

My mother's wedding ring hangs on a chain around my neck. It's the only thing I have left to remind me of her. She died a while ago and I don't really remember her that well. It seems like it takes forever for Fathnir to cross over to the glass bowl and draw out that hated slip of paper.

"Teryn Dazzle."

There's no procrastination and suddenly, Nico lets go of my hand. It's that break in contact that really alerts me to what's happening. I look desperately back at him, but there's nothing he can do either. So I turn away from Nico and begin walking towards the podium. Fathnir's watching me with a serious expression on his face.

"Congratulations."

There's nothing congratulatory about it. I stand there helpless to my fate. How can I survive something like the Hunger Games? I look out over the sea of faces and I'm horrified. How can the people of District 7 have put me up for this? They've condemned me to die.

* * *

**Ashby Soulas**

I feel so sorry for the girl, Teryn, who was just reaped. She looks so scared and she's looking over the crowd as if someone might help her, as if anyone else might volunteer. I feel a stab of pity for her. One of the boys in the fifteen-year-old group, Nico Higgans, is standing on tiptoe. His face has gone completely white and I remember now that he's a friend of hers.

Fathnir crosses back over to the bowl, leaving Teryn standing alone, looking small and helpless. She's shaking and she looks like she might faint. I don't see as weak. I just see a scared girl. Everyone's scared of the Hunger Games. You'd be mad if you weren't.

Fathnir lifts up the piece of paper and unravels it. "Ashby Soulas."

It's a little bit of a surprise to me, although really it shouldn't be. My dad's a Peacekeeper and not many people like Peacekeepers. I stand more of a chance than Teryn does…but this doesn't make me feel any better, because that means the poor girl would die. She looks on the verge of hysterics as she bounces on the balls of her feet.

I swallow hard and start the walk of shame towards the podium. Of course they picked me. Why wouldn't they? I'm a Peacekeeper's son. I force a smile as I shake Fathnir's hand, accept his congratulations. Then I have to go and shake hands with Teryn, as if we're just allies and we won't be fending for ourselves.

"Don't worry," I say without thinking, "It's okay. I'll look out for you in the arena."

It's the wrong thing to say. Teryn presses her lips together and frowns. She clearly doesn't want my help and after the handshake, she releases my hand as if it's a snake. She glares at me and folds her arms across her chest.

"I don't need your help," she hisses under her breath.

Somehow, I think she might be wrong there. I also think that perhaps I can convince her to change her mind.

* * *

**DISTRICT 8**

**Evianna Carroway**

I should probably spit it out straight away: my parents were mass murderers. It's definitely not something I'm proud of, but it means that I'm almost a definite to be selected for the 25th Hunger Games – also known as the 1st Quarter Quell. They're dead now. My parents, I mean. They were executed when I was only young.

Cambria Bell, our escort, smiles mournfully as she pulls out the girl's name. We both know it's my name, because her eyes lock onto mine. Everyone knows who I am. The whispers start as Cambria lifts up the piece of paper and reads clearly.

"Evianna Carroway."

I move out of the fourteen-year-olds section and up towards the podium, resigning myself to my fate. I can't help but feel that this is unfair. I'm being sentenced to die because of my parents' actions. My feet are heavy as lead…and that's when it happens.

_A young woman, with the same caramel-coloured hair and green eyes as me, her teeth bared in savage triumph. She can't be any older than eighteen and she's chasing down a boy a few years younger. He's begging for mercy, wanting to be spared…but she silences him with a knife._

_There's the sound of a cannon. Suddenly, I know exactly what's happening. The boy's body is airlifted out and taken away and that's when I know for sure. My mother was in one of the Hunger Games. She must have won…and she loved the taste of killing._

Now I'm on the ground. I've skinned my knees and my palms sting. Cambria is hovering concernedly over me, her eyes solemn. I get to my feet without her assistance and my cheeks flame hot with embarrassment. Now the district's going to think me a total weakling.

"Are you alright, Evianna?"

"Fine," I lie through clenched teeth, "I'm fine."

But it's not fine. It's not okay. Because now I know who my mother was, at least. I don't know why I remember that about her – perhaps that particular version of the Hunger Games is one they re-watched when I was just very young? All I know is that it's not good at all. I won't become like my murderer parents. In fact, I doubt I'll win the Hunger Games at all.

* * *

**Crow Sullivan**

I watch as Evianna Carroway falls to her knees. She's only a year older than me, but I don't go near her. No one really does, because we all know that her parents were murderers. Cambria goes to help her up, but Evianna gets up herself. She staggers up to the podium and just stands there, her face bright red in humiliation.

After making sure that Evianna really is alright – even though she won't be, because she's just been chosen for the Hunger Games – Cambria heads back to the boy's bowl and draws the name and hesitates for just a moment.

"Crow Sullivan."

Oh. It's me. After a moment's silence, in which no one volunteers, I gulp and head towards the podium and the shivering Evianna. I suppose I know a fair amount for a thirteen-year-old. Younger kids don't often win the Games, but there's a first for everything. I can climb and I can swim. Maybe I stand a chance after all.

Evianna and I shake hands, and she refuses to meet my eyes. I don't see what she has to be afraid of. Perhaps it's not nice to judge people by their parents, but it's kind of creepy that she's the daughter of murderers. Her mother won the 9th Hunger Games.

"Do you really think you can win?" I ask her doubtfully. She's pretty small. Even I'm taller than she is.

She just scowls. "I think I'm more likely to win than you are!"

Poor, deluded Evianna. Maybe she really is as mad as her parents were.


	5. District 9 & 10 Reapings

**DISTRICT 9**

**Angel Ferriday**

I examine my nails in utter boredom as Lutheran Clancy, our district escort, natters on about the history of the Hunger Games. To me, it's too horrific to acknowledge. Sending in 24 tributes each year and only one lived? That's sheer cruelty. So I do my best to blank it, as if that could make it all go away.

My best friend Chess Laxer pokes me in the shoulder. I frown as I looked up from my nails, bitten out of nervousness. Chess jerks his chin towards the podium, where Lutheran is still going on about the history of Panem and the Capitol. I just roll my eyes, letting Chess know that I didn't give a damn about the Capitol.

"I'll pick out the girl tribute first," Lutheran announces, and then I _am _listening – very intently. He crosses to the bowl where a slip of paper was nestled, a slip of paper that would most likely end the life of a girl in District 9. "Angel Ferriday."

I shoot Chess a horrified look. Who had voted for me? Am I really that hated that our district had voted me dead? Chess looks just as scared as I felt. Suddenly I think I might be sick. I am loathed. Why? What have I done?

"Please say you didn't vote for me," I whisper.

"Angel…" Chess mutters in response, shaking his head slowly. "Of course not…"

Then I'm being prodded by others in the sixteen-year-old. I'm walking towards the front as if it's the natural thing to do. I'm going to die in these Games. I can use weapons, sure…but most of the tributes will be bigger and stronger than me. I won't stand a chance, especially not against the Careers. I'm filled with a fear so deep I might drown in it. I'm going to die.

I want to reach back to Chess, to cry, to scream…but everything's on camera. I maintain my composure, but I'm not going to smile. I'm not going to lie about how I feel. I'm going to let the Capitol know that I do not bow. I do not want this.

There have been 24 Games so far. In each, 23 tributes have died. This means over 550 teenagers of Panem have been killed for the Capitol's insatiable need for revenge. Why? The Dark Days are over. They obliterated District 13. What more can they want from us?

But I already know the answer. We're the entertainment. We're the show put on each year, and by using teenagers and children, they render the districts powerless.

* * *

**Rocco Harkens**

I feel just as shocked as Angel looks when her name is called out. Angel Ferriday…I know her only all too well. I stand in the eighteen-year-old section and watch as she turns her accusing gaze on her best friend, Chess. He shakes his head and mutters something I can't hear. Then Angel's moving slowly towards the front, where Lutheran waits for her.

I watch her mahogany hair swish behind her, her blue-green eyes wide with panic. There once was a time when Angel and I were close…except I ruined it when she was fourteen and I was sixteen, two years ago. I tried to ask her out, but she rejected me. I think she's secretly in love with Chess.

Then Lutheran's reaching into the boy's bowl. "Rocco Harkens."

If I had been going into the Hunger Games with anyone except Angel, it might have been alright. It's fine if you go with some random you hardly know…but when it's someone you know and you care about, it's very different. I tense, before stepping out and heading towards the podium, my violet eyes blazing.

Angel is watching me with astonishment written all over her face. She's disbelieving, wondering why I've been chosen. Somehow I don't think it's because the district hates me. I know enough about weapons and plants. I think they voted for me because they think I stand a chance. I can only hope that they're right.

Angel and I shake hands. She's pressing her lips together, trying to look strong. I know Angel too well. Pain for herself, she doesn't care about. She has a very high pain tolerance – I remember a couple of years back when she broke her arm and she barely made a sound. It's pain to those she cares about that really hits her hard. But the pain that the Hunger Games can bring? I think that's different.

"Did _you_ vote for me?" she almost snaps.

I shake my head.

"No. But I did vote for Chess." I attempt the half-hearted joke, which instead of making Angel smile a little only makes her frown even more tersely. What's it going to take for her to like me again? We were friends once. I only wish…well, it's too late now for wishes. I just wanted us to be friends again.

* * *

**DISTRICT 10**

**Alexis Thyme**

"Alexis!" My friend Jorjah snaps her fingers in front of me and I blink, coming back to the Square in District 10 out of 'Alexis World', as my friends and family like to call it. I turn to face Jorjah and she just sighs and shakes her head.

Our escort, Halley Isaacs, is up at the podium talking really fast. I can't even understand what she's saying half the time. Honestly, I was looking forward to just waiting until this is all over. The Reaping always reduces me to a bundle of nerves. Since I'm fourteen, this is the third time I've been eligible…only this year's different. No one wants to say it, but it's true.

Halley turns to look at our mentor, Jassed Rance. He's around thirty and a nice guy. He looks after the tributes, treats them like they were his own kids – but most of the time he's left miserable, because not many come back to District 10 alive.

It's quiet when Halley moves over to the girl's glass bowl and draws out the slip of paper. So quiet you can hear the cows mooing from the paddocks. I'd give anything to be there rather than here, especially when it's my name that Halley reads out.

"Alexis Thyme."

No one wants to be chosen for the Games, but I have a feeling that it's me because I'm fast and nimble. Our district wouldn't choose based on how unpopular you are – they'd choose based on who would survive. Well, at least in my case. I take a deep breath and give Jorjah one last pleading glance before I head up towards the podium.

Jassed Rance is forcing a smile and Halley is trying to look pleased, but I know how everyone feels. When it's anyone fourteen or under, the district tends to be very displeased. Well, better me than a twelve-year-old. I like to think that – maybe – I stand a chance.

* * *

**Kenton Deins**

David sneers across at me, but I ignore him. I'm too busy watching little Alexis make her way up to the podium. I'm standing with the other eighteen-year-olds and she just looks so…small. I know I shouldn't underestimate her – little ones have won the Games before – but I can't help it. David's the mayor's son. He hates me, no idea why. I know he, at least, will have voted for me.

"Kenton Deins."

I feel a cold clutch of fear as David laughs. He's probably convinced everyone else in the district to vote for me as well. No one wants to be out of the mayor's favour. Oh well. It's not like I need anyone to volunteer for me. I'm eighteen and 6"2. Jassed Rance is looking me over, judging. By the look on his face, he thinks I stand more of a chance than Alexis does.

My mother's dead anyway. I'm not sure whether I'll be joining her again soon. It's a slim chance that I'm going to win the Hunger Games. I mean, there are 23 other tributes I'd have to beat first. I go to shake Alexis's hand. She's got light blonde hair and leafy green eyes. She's pale, too – probably doesn't spend too much time in the sun. I wonder how long a delicate girl like her will last in the Games.

"Would you kill me if you had to?" I ask of her. I don't know why I asked that. It just…slipped out of my mouth.

Alexis's eyes suddenly turn hard, although I know her as a cheerful girl willing to help others.

"If I have to…yes."


	6. District 11 & 12 Reapings

**A/N: Last reapings, everyone! Phew...**

* * *

**DISTRICT 11**

**Jaeka Alexys Morrow**

I wish Liam was here. He's nineteen now, too old to participate in the Games. So he's safe…but I'm not. I stand with the other eighteen-year-olds, knowing that although this is my last year, I won't stop worrying. My little brother Camren has just turned twelve, so there'll be plenty more to worry about for years to come.

I've been living with Liam since I was thirteen. You see, Mum died giving birth to Camren and after a few years, my dad just couldn't take it. He drowned himself, leaving Camren and I to fend for ourselves. I knew Liam a little and as we became friends – and later, sweethearts – he invited us to live with his family.

I take a deep breath as Damon Howard, our escort with salt-and-pepper hair, crosses the podium after finishing his 'rousing' speech about Panem. Pfft, yeah right. Like anyone really cares. All we know is that we hate the Hunger Games.

_Please not Camren._

He looks up and calls the girl's name. "Jaeka Alexys Morrow."

Oh damn. It's me. I don't have many friends in the district, so I suppose people voted for me because they don't know me that well. I take a deep breath and know I have to be strong. For my little brother. For Liam, who's no doubt watching everything that's happening from the crowd somewhere.

"Jaeka!" I hear Camren gasp from the twelve-year-old section as I make my way up to the podium. Hey, I'm probably older than a lot of the other tributes. I stand a better chance than most other girls in my district. Maybe that's what everyone was thinking when they voted for me…yeah, right. They picked me because they don't like me. I don't really talk to people.

Star Dragonet watches the proceedings in silence. She's perhaps twenty. She won the Hunger Games four years ago. There are still scars on her face where the District 1 boy tried to cut her up. I shiver, knowing that she's going to be my mentor. There's something a lot like sorrow in her eyes. She doesn't like this any more than I do.

"Congratulations, Jaeka," Damon says, rather half-heartedly. I can almost hear my heart beating in my chest as he moves back towards the podium to snatch up the boy's name. All I can do is pray with all my heart and soul that it won't be…

"Camren Morrow."

* * *

**Andre Sarell**

"Camren Morrow."

Up on the stage, Jaeka's dark eyes widen with horror. "NO!"

Little Camren steps forward, gulping. He looks terrified and suddenly, I feel the need to do something. If it was anyone else, I probably wouldn't do it. But I know Jaeka, sort of. She and her brother are both orphans. I can't imagine how painful it must be, looking after him for so long and then knowing she is probably going to lose him.

So I step forward. "I volunteer."

Both Jaeka and Camren look shocked. I walk towards the podium, holding my head high. Camren's only twelve. He wouldn't survive the Games. Both Jaeka and I know this, but she still looks at me quizzically as I step up the podium.

I know what it's like to live by yourself. My family? They're gone now. What I don't understand is what it must be like to care for someone else the way Jaeka does for Camren, and her boyfriend Liam. I try not to care about people because in the end, you only get hurt.

Star is watching this with her eyebrows raised. Most people don't volunteer in District 11. What I've done is uncommon. I didn't do this for Jaeka. Maybe some think I care about her. No, I did it for Camren. He's young and deserves to live. I'm eighteen. I'm older. I've got no one who cares about me anymore.

"Why?" Jaeka whispers as we shake hands. She looks a little relieved that Camren won't have to participate in the Games, but surprised at what I've done.

"I thought you'd know, Jaeka. I'm giving your brother the chance at tomorrow."

There and then, Jaeka and I become unwilling, unspoken allies.

* * *

**DISTRICT 12**

**Mist Averia**

I know more about the Hunger Games than most people. Dad's been training me since I could walk. My older brother, Tyler, participated in the 23rd Hunger Games. I remember that year. It was the year that the District 4 girl killed her partner to win. Tyler was so close to winning. He was the third one left, the second last death in the arena.

Mum didn't take too well to all of this. When Tyler died in the arena, she became depressed. But when she learned that Dad was trying to get my older sister Zoey chosen in the Reapings, she committed suicide. So there's been no one really to protect me from Dad's ruthless ambitions. If I don't make it, I know that he's going to get my sister Skye into the Games.

It won't be a surprise when they call out the girl's name. I just bet it will be me. Dad will have convinced everyone to vote for me. The 25th Hunger Games have given him the opportunity he's been dreaming of. If they didn't vote for me, they'll have voted for Skye. I'd rather it was me than Skye.

I stand in the seventeen-year-olds section. Up on the stage, our excitable escort, Minnie Lune, is going on about how great it is to be in District 12. Please. We all know that District 12 is the least well off of the lot. Behind her, Cairo Mellark – our only victor, who won the 10th Hunger Games – is yawning and looking thoroughly bored with everything.

Minnie then goes to read the name of District 12's girl. I brace myself.

"Mist Averia."

_I hate you, Dad._ It shouldn't shock me, but somehow it does. I'm going into the arena like my brother Tyler. I probably won't come out alive. I'm only glad that Mum isn't alive to bear witness, because this would surely kill her. She didn't have kids only to sacrifice them all to the Hunger Games. I sweep my bronze hair out of my face and make my way up to the stage.

I glance across at Cairo. He's in his mid-twenties and I wonder if the reason he looks so perpetually bored is because he doesn't want to get attached to tributes. After all, he's the only one from 12 who's ever survived. No wonder he doesn't want to get to know those he mentors.

"Congratulations, Mist."

I don't think it's necessary. My dad's in the crowd somewhere, probably smiling and hoping I'll do our district proud. I just want to spit at his feet.

* * *

**Phoenix Desoleil**

I'm not surprised they picked Mist. It was either her or her younger sister, Skye. Now Mist's just gulping back her fear as Minnie turns back to the bowl to draw the boy's name. I know there's a good chance that it's me. I live with my aunt and uncle, but they're always doing their own thing…so I do mine. Often I end up in trouble, and the local Peacekeepers hate my guts.

I rake back my spiky black hair, which I recently got copper highlights in. It sort of matches my strange amber-gold eyes. They're an usual colour and I'm not sure if I got them from either of my parents. My friends are whispering jokes beside me in the sixteen-year-olds section, trying to ease the tension, but I just want them to shut up. I need to hear the name.

"Phoenix Desoleil."

Well, surprise surprise. They decided to pick the resident troublemaker to put in the Games. I can't argue with that – the Peacekeepers have most likely had a hand in this, complaining that things would be better off without me. While Mist was chosen because of her father's ambitions, I'm chosen because people genuinely don't like me. I'm cool with that. If I survive the Games, they'll like me plenty.

I head up towards the podium. Mist is standing there trying to act as though she doesn't care. Her older sister Zoey stands with the other eighteen-year-olds, looking shocked that she wasn't picked. Zoey's just too sweet a girl for the district to want to go into the Games.

"You think one of us will survive?" Mist mumbles as we're made to shake hands.

I consider the odds. "We'll have to see who got reaped from the other districts first."


	7. To Be A Tribute

**A/N: A huge thanks to my reviewers as always! This chapter has some minor editing, just some added content, but the more major changes are going to take place in the arena chapters. Hope you enjoy all the same!**

* * *

**TO BE A TRIBUTE**

**Cassie Leigh Night – District 1**

It's not far to the Capitol, not from District 1 – but for me, it could be forever. I'm been taken away from everything I know…and it's a horrible feeling. I think I don't stand a chance with someone like Jordan coming – except then our mentor, Heath Fallicoat, takes us to a compartment on the train to the Capitol where we have to watch recaps of the reapings, and that's even worse.

I remember Heath won the Games only a few years back. The 19th or 20th Games, I can't remember which. He's in his early twenties now and he seems very tired a lot of the time. I don't exactly remember how he won, but it doesn't surprise me. He's a Career – like Jordan and I are now. It's an automatic thing, really. We are expected to ally ourselves with the tributes from Districts 2 and 4, and are outcasts if we don't. The only good thing is that we Careers normally survive the bloodbath.

Some of the tributes are hard to forget. I watch the reapings carefully. A handsome, muscular boy with empty, cold eyes volunteers from 2. A curly-haired girl from 4. A brother and sister from 5. A girl forcing a smile from 6. Two young kids from 8, neither of them over fourteen. A gorgeous violet-eyed boy from 9. An older boy volunteers from 11 to take the place of the female tribute's brother. From 12, an athletic girl with sea-green eyes and bronzed skin.

Heath turns off the television and turns to face us, his eyebrows raised pointedly. I know he's seeking an opinion on what we've just witnessed and to be honest, I'm afraid. There are so many other tributes, a lot of them bigger than me. Even Jordan shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat.

"So? Who do you think you'll have to watch out for?"

I shake my head, unable to speak for some reason. I've just seen all the other teenagers we're going to have to kill in the arena. That really hits home for me. It makes everything seem so much more real than if we just rocked up to the Capitol and saw all these other people. I remember the boy and girl from 8, little more than kids really.

"Well," Jordan sounds doubtful, "The other Careers we'll probably be in an alliance with – but I'm not so sure about that boy from 2."

"Yes," Heath agrees, but he sounds impatient, "Do I need to replay it again? Which ones seem like they might pose a threat?"

Jordan thinks. "Umm…the boy from 5. Actually, both from 5. The boys from 7 and 9. The girls from 11 and 12."

Heath shrugs. He's supposed to be our mentor, I think with a wave of irritation. Shouldn't he be telling us who we should watch out for? He knows the Games better than we do. We're just two kids stuck in this together now.

"The best thing to do is stick with the Career pack for as long as you can. Bump off the other tributes, but don't trust the other Careers. They could just as well stab you in the back. When it's down to the final eight, get the hell out of there. Careers tend to turn on each other when it's down to the final eight."

I nod and so does Jordan. If all the Careers reach the final eight, we'd turn on each other indefinitely – because there would only be the six of us and two others. The entire Career pack doesn't normally get into the final eight, though. I think it's only happened once or twice. I hope this isn't a third time.

"Whatever," Jordan mutters mutinously as we leave the compartment. There's a scowl across his face and I can tell that he isn't impressed. Heath hasn't exactly taught us a lot, but I think it's more about thinking for ourselves. "What exactly does Heath expect from us anyway?"

I give Jordan a sharp look. Does he seriously not know?

"He wants one of us to win, Jordan."

* * *

**Donnicon Wayland – District 3**

I don't really get along with Jenna so much. Big surprise – I'm the sort of person who likes to stick by themselves. When we're in the arena, I don't think I'm going to team up with her. A lot of district partners do that. There have been back-stabbings in the past. I work better by myself in any case.

Our mentor, Daniel Thanos, is practically my idol. He won the 20th Hunger Games by intelligence rather than brute force. I remember exactly how he did it – he rigged up some wire around the arena and created pressure points so that if any of the other tributes stood on it…BOOM! That's my strategy. I know enough about bombs and traps and blowing things up.

"Ouch!" I can't quite hold back a whine as one of my prep team waxes the hair off my leg. It hurts like hell. I glare at the woman, but she just shrugs. All the people here in the Capitol look so weird. This woman, Candy, has shocking pink and blue spiky hair, crimson contact lenses in her eyes and a piercing in her nose.

"Chill out, kid. We're going to make you look spectacular."

Oh, I don't _feel_ spectacular. I feel like I sting all over. I know that somewhere, Jenna must be experiencing the same sort of thing. That makes me feel a little better until – RIP! I hiss in pain and grit my teeth. I never _asked_ to be made up to look nice. As a matter of fact, I couldn't care less what I look like.

I'm better off than some, though. I dug up an old fossil from the Stone Age, some little music player called an iPod, and got it to work. I don't even know half the songs on there, but it doesn't matter because they're alright. It's how I managed to cut out Jenna's constant whining on the train ride here. I don't think I would have survived otherwise.

I'm not looking forward to the chariot rides. District 3 normally gets dressed up as techies. That would be okay, if it wasn't for the fact that last year's tributes were rigged with lights. It was just laughable. I wonder what they're going to make us wear this year. If we're an embarrassment, I doubt we'll get sponsors. Hopefully though, things can't get any worse than having Jenna as a district partner.

* * *

**Artemis Palein – District 5**

I clutch at Apollo's hand and I'm shaking. Our mentor, Reuben DeLacqua, is constantly trying to tell us things are going to be alright. Apollo wants to punch him in the face, I can just tell. It's _not _going to be okay, not for us. Either one or both of us are going to end up dead. By the time we hit the Capitol, the tributes from districts 1, 2, 3 and 4 are already there.

District 1 looks alright. The boy is studiously ignoring the crowd with his hands jammed into his pockets. He doesn't look like he wanted to be here at all…but who does? The girl is waving a little half-heartedly. She is…young. Probably fourteen. One thing I would be eternally grateful for was that there were no twelve-year-olds in this year's Games. I had watched the reapings and slumped back in my seat in utter relief.

District 2 looks sinister. They normally are. The girl is very tall with platinum blonde hair that swishes down her back. She looks utterly confident. I wish I could look that tough. It's the boy that scares me, really…I squeeze Apollo's hand while I watch him. There's a shark-like grin across his face and I would think him handsome, apart from the fact that something cruel lingers behind those blue eyes. I suppress a shudder.

District 3 is…interesting. The boy has freckles and a shock of dark curls. He's around the same height as me and he almost looks weedy. I wonder how he's going to survive the Games, especially considering the muscular boys from 1 and 2 that I've already seen. The girl's my age, maybe a little younger. There are green highlights in her hair, which personally, I think is pretty cool.

District 4 are the typically bronzed types. The boy is really living up to it, waving to the crowd and smiling. He practically swaggers around the place, much to the disapproval of the girl from his district. The girl's pretty, sweet-faced really. She trails around uncertainly after the boy as if she's not sure what she's supposed to do.

"How are we supposed to survive?" I whisper to Apollo, horrified. The Careers are all fit and strong and I don't doubt that District 3 has some tricks up their sleeves.

"We will." Apollo sounds so certain that I just can't argue.

Then the boy from District 2 turns around and smiles. It's so creepy. I don't know what it is. I know then that he's the sort who's not going to show anyone else mercy.


	8. Looking For A Show

**A/N: Sorry this has taken a while - it looks like every uni subject decided to give me essays at the same time. Minor editing to this chapter, hope you enjoy! Also, I would be very grateful if you would check out a joint story I'm working on under the penname Smexi-MnMs. The story is called "Nefarious".**

* * *

**LOOKING FOR A SHOW**

**Ashby Soulas – District 7**

I feel…ridiculous. I stand beside Teryn and we examine each other's outfits with horror. I am a tree. A freaking _tree_. Perhaps this is some sort of preparation for the arena, because right now, I really do want to kill someone. I'm going to be the laughing stock of the Capitol! How are any potential sponsors going to take me seriously now?

Teryn stands on the chariot beside me. We listen to the loud cheers for districts 1, 2 and 4 – the Career districts, the favoured districts. I clench my hands around the handlebars. They're the ones who win the Games the most often. Well, I'll show them. Heck, I'm not sure if I can win, but it's either that or die, right?

"District 7!"

Our dappled horses lurch forward and I catch Teryn's arm as she nearly falls out of the chariot. She doesn't even look at me. We haven't really speaking that much. I think she still resents the fact that I'm trying to look out for her.

I hear the cheers of the crowd, but I still feel a total idiot. Then my eyes flick upwards towards the television screen and we don't look so bad. So then I smile and start waving and the crowd goes absolutely wild. This encourages me to wave even more enthusiastically and after a moment's hesitation, Teryn joins in.

I start to think that maybe this isn't so bad – then I remember what this whole chariot rides signifies, what it means for Teryn and me. The crowd is practically celebrating the fact that we're heading to our deaths in the arena. The smile on my face falters and people must have noticed because the cheering dies down a little.

Teryn throws me a concerned look.

"Keep smiling," she hisses, "You never know who your sponsors might be."

That's when I'm forced to acknowledge that maybe I was wrong. Maybe it's not me who needs to look after Teryn, but _Teryn _who needs to look after _me._

* * *

**Angel Ferriday – District 9**

I know I should really be paying attention to my own chariot, but somehow, I can't stop checking out the costumes of the other districts. I mean, they're just so _cool._ Rocco and I stand there, feeling like cheap versions of Robin Hood because we're from the hunting district. We've exchanged few words so far and instead listened to the advice of our mentor, Harridan Hoax, a grouchy man of about forty who won the very first Hunger Games.

District 1 moves out first. Their costumes are so beautiful and glittery, like a thousand stars in the night. Well, okay, maybe not quite that brilliant, but you get what I mean. District 2 rolls into position to follow them. They're both dressed in armour like medieval knights and it only makes them look more intimidating.

"Aren't you paying attention?" Rocco asks, sounding a little annoyed, "Or are you just looking at all the pretty costumes?"

I roll my eyes at him. "I'm _allowed_ to, aren't I?"

District 3 look like robots. I laugh nervously at the sour expression on the boy's face. District 4 is a little luckier. They're both dressed like merpeople and the girl seems to be having a blast, blowing kisses to the audience and grinning like a maniac. She looks like a sea goddess.

"They're not _that_ great," Rocco mutters mutinously, but I can see him eying off the District 4 girl's costume, a long blue-green dress that flows like water and is somewhat see-through.

5, 6 and 7 are nothing special. Both from District 5 are dressed completely in black. It makes them look a bit like ninjas. District 6 is dressed up like scientists. I can tell they aren't impressed with this because of the looks on their faces.

"We're up next," I whisper as District 8 moves out. They're both dressed in multi-coloured clothes that look spectacular. Then our horses lurch forward and it's us going out there, to the roar of the audience. I smile and wave, just as Harridan told me to. Rocco looks a little uncomfortable with all the attention.

"Would it kill you to smile?" I hiss at him under my breath.

What Rocco does next shocks not only the audience, but me as well. He leans in and plants a soft kiss on my cheek.

* * *

**Andre Sarell – District 11**

Whoa. The boy from District 9 leans over and kisses the girl on the cheek. It's weird. At first I think he did it just for attention, maybe to earn a few more sponsors. Then I see the look on his face. It's not triumphant or even coy. It's, well…sad. That's when I know. _He's in love with her._

"So 9's playing the lovebirds card," Jaeka murmurs from beside me. "I wonder how well _that _is going to go down."

I glance across at her and wonder if she feels just as humiliated as I do. We're dressed up with cowbells around our necks and made to look like stereotypical farmers. It's all I can do not to rip the costume off. Jaeka's determined to milk this for all it's worth – ha, milk.

District 10 rolls out. Their costumes are even worse than ours. They're dressed as cows (hence the milk joke) and neither of them looks very happy. I turn to Jaeka and offer her what I hope is a reassuring smile. We're sort of allies now. Have to be, because I volunteered and took her brother's place.

"Let's just get this over with," Jaeka groans as the chariot moves out behind the others. By this time, Districts 1 and 2 have already moved through towards the City Circle.

Jaeka and I force smiles and wave, the cowbells ringing loudly as we do so. District 10 whirls around to glance at us, their eyes wide. I think our stylist is an idiot. We're the agricultural district. We mainly get up the trees and pick fruit. We don't herd cows. What did they mistake us for, District 10?

"They're going to kill us in the arena," Jaeka mumbles, her attempt at a joke falling flat.

* * *

**Dain Winters – District 2**

I didn't think I'd enjoy the chariot rides that much. First of all, I was dressed up as a knight, which was awesome in itself. Then there was the crowd, yelling my name over and over again. "DAIN! DAIN!" It really got my blood pumping.

Aloe and I step off the chariot. Aloe is frowning, trying to disentangle her hair from the metal armour. Obviously she didn't think it was as great as I did. Jeez, it's going to be hard for me to take those District 1 morons seriously. I mean, the girl's just a kid. As for the guy? Well, he looks too soft-hearted to want to kill anyone.

I yawn my way through the President's speech. This is so boring. When are we getting around to the killing? When we finally get to dinner, Praetor and Shadow are waiting for us. I think it's pathetic how Aloe blushes whenever we're around Praetor. I mean, please. Mentor? He's younger than I am. If he wasn't so good in last year's Games, I'd probably hate him.

"Impressive," Praetor concedes, inclining his head. Maybe he thinks by acting all mature he'll seem older than seventeen. "You two did a good job. Especially you, Dain."

I'm surprised. I thought he was going to flirt with Aloe, perhaps lay on the charm – then again, our male tributes didn't want because of charm. They won because they were ruthless and brutal…like me. Aloe looks just as astonished, her eyes wide. She shoots me a jealous look. It's going to be hard having to put up with her, but at least she's better than District 1.

"What's next?" I ask of Praetor.

His eyes glimmer and he smiles. "Training starts first thing tomorrow. You two want to be coached together, or separately?"

There's nothing I have to hide from Aloe. In fact, the more she knows about me, the better. Maybe she'll be afraid. She should be afraid.

"Together," Aloe and I say at the same time, offering each other death glares.

* * *

**Tea Ryan – District 4**

I can't help but shoots worried looks over at Falcon during dinner. Myliana Cook, our mentor, is commenting about how important it is to stay part of the Career pack, for as long as possible. The thought of teaming up with someone like that District 2 boy makes me shudder. Besides, I can't take Myliana seriously. She won the Games two years ago, when she was eighteen, by turning on her District partner. I dislike her. Perhaps she expects Falcon or I will do the same thing.

"Who do we need to watch out for?" Falcon asks, seeming thoroughly absorbed in what Myliana is saying.

Myliana considers this. "You should try and make the dangerous ones part of the Career pack. That way you can keep an eye on them. I'd say you should ask the boys from Districts 3 and 5, and maybe the girl from 11."

I nearly choke on my shepherd's pie. "The boy from 3? Are you kidding? He looks like he couldn't lift fifty kilos."

Myliana raises her eyebrows and gives me this disdainful look. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Tea. I've no doubt that he's smart. I know about his mentor, Daniel. He blew up three Careers to win the 20th Hunger Games. The District 3 boy can help you."

I exchange a glance with Falcon, who looks just as disbelieving as I feel. The boy – I don't know his name – might just as easily rig a trap for us. I suppose all that we can do is try. When we start group training, Myliana instructs us to get with the other Careers and convince them about the District 3 and 5 boys. She's not so sure about the District 11 girl.

"Alright, kiddies." Alethea enters the room, rubbing her hands together. "You better go and get some rest. You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

Uh oh. Falcon and I look at each other, concerned. What is that supposed to mean?

"You'll just have to wait and see," Myliana shrugs, seeing the apprehension on our faces.

* * *

**Wolf Merritt-Bice – District 6**

I sit on the roof of the Training Centre – alone. I don't mind being alone. It gives me time to think. How long can I expect to survive the Hunger Games? Actually, no, I don't want to think about that right now…gives me the creeps.

Footsteps. I look up and see Lyssa walking towards me. There's an innocent smile on her face, but I reckon she knows that I want to be alone. She sits down beside me with a heavy sigh.

"It's a beautiful view, don't you think?"

I have to agree with her. Lights glitter like tiny gems all over the Capitol and there's always noise, the feeling of people bustling around at all hours. I turn and glance back at Lyssa. She's cute, in an almost little-girlish way.

"It's nothing like home, huh."

Oh, the girl's clever. She's trying to manipulate me into sharing my weakness, saying how much I miss home. She wants to see me falter…but I won't let her. I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes and look her right in the eye.

"Yeah, completely different. Everyone here is so weird. All dressed up in nice colours…makes you feel like you're from the Capitol."

Lyssa interprets my meaning with a sharp smile. "Don't worry, Wolf. I'm not a killing machine. I don't murder for sport. Besides, weapons aren't my strong point."

Now she's just getting more and more obvious. Lyssa wants me to say what my strengths and weaknesses are. Well, she'll find out soon enough. We decided that we're going to be trained together.

"Really?" I mutter uninterestedly. "Well I guess I'll soon see what _is._"


	9. Prepare For The Masses

**PREPARE FOR THE MASSES**

**Evianna Carroway – District 8**

The Training Centre is bustling with tributes. I'm listening intently as the head trainer, this buff guy called Nikolai, explains the training stations. I glance around at the other tributes. Crow is gazing around disinterestedly. I think he's probably the youngest tribute in here.

I can tell the Careers – even if I hadn't seen them in chariots last night, they're much bigger and stronger than everyone else. Some of them look nice – like the District 4 girl – while others look a lot meaner…like the District 1 boy, who stands there scowling with his arms folded. I wouldn't want to cross them in the arena, but I'll probably have to.

As soon as Nikolai is done talking, Crow taps me on the shoulder.

"So?"

He wants me to decide where we're going to head off to. I don't know if it's because I'm older and he thinks I know better, or because he doesn't really have a clue himself. I shrug and we head over to knot-tying class.

Over at the spears, the District 10 boy – Kenton, I think his name is – is having an argument with two other boys, Careers. One of them is leaning against the wall and smirking. I'm pretty sure he's the one from District 2. The other boy, from District 4, is right in Kenton's face, trying to grab the spear he's holding. The girls from Districts 2 and 4 are hanging back, not standing up for Kenton but not getting involved either. I admire Kenton's courage.

"Hey." It's the District 10 girl. She's probably about my age. There's a warm smile on her face and I can't help but think she seems nice. "I'm Alexis. You know, from District 10."

Crow turns and looks back at Kenton. "He's your partner, right?"

Alexis shrugs. "I guess. He's crazy, though, going up against the Careers."

"Well, I'm Evianna," I offer and then point to Crow, "He's my district partner, Crow."

The knot-tying trainer seems eager to get started. Somehow, I hope that I can make an ally of Alexis. She seems really nice.

* * *

**Kenton Deins – District 10**

Bloody Careers. When we sit down for lunch, I glare across at them. Right now, they're chatting to the District 5 boy. Looks like they're trying to add another to their ranks. They already approached the boy from District 3. Seven of them are bad enough. I don't know if we could take eight.

Alexis makes friends easily. She comes to our table with the two kids from District 8, introducing them as Evianna and Crow. Even now, before the Games, there seem to be set little groups. The Careers, for starters. They're the biggest group around.

Then there are the girls from Districts 3 and 5, who seemed a bit pissed that their male counterparts have become associated with the Career. I think the two from 5 are siblings. So why would the guy ditch his sister? She and the District 5 girl are whispering in undertones.

Most of the rest sit in pairs with only their district partner. I can't help but linger on District 9, the apparent lovebirds. The girl is studiously ignoring the boy. Maybe she's annoyed at his show of affection on the chariot.

"I'm surprised you didn't join them." Crow nods towards the Careers. They're loud, unlike the rest of us. They're trying to prove that they're fearless. Unfortunately, it's working. My eyes go hard as I glower at them.

"Oh, they could try and recruit me. I don't think so, not after this morning's incident."

"What was that about?" Alexis asks.

I shrug. "The District 4 boy, Falcon, asked to borrow the spear I was using. I said no. So then he and that District 2 guy, Dain, tried to intimidate me into handing it over. It didn't work."

I size up the other tributes as I eat, trying to figure out who the real threats might be. Apart from the Careers, there aren't really many others. The District 11 boy, maybe. District 7, most likely. The thing is, I feel like I'm underestimating everyone. I guess I'll have to wait till the arena to see who I really need to watch out for.

* * *

**Mist Averia – District 12**

Second day of training. Fan-freaking-tantastic. Beside me, Phoenix is shakily nocking an arrow and aiming for one of the targets. It's obvious that he hasn't done this before. I didn't even try – I suck with a bow and arrow. Besides, I am too busy watching the Careers with fascinated horror.

They're all over with the heavy weapons – you know, swords, spears, axes. The District 1 girl, the youngest of the bunch, examines the weapons and doesn't try any of them out. Instead she looks across to where Phoenix is firing the arrow so that it skims the side of the target. I'll bet she's an archer. Her partner hefts up a spear and throws it at one of the dummies, catching it right through the heart.

District 2 is even better – or even worse, depending on how you want to look at it. The boy picks up this massive axe with a grin and hacks off a dummy's head. I'm chilled to the bone just knowing how strong he is. I couldn't even _lift_ that axe let alone swing it like that. The District 2 girl picks up a pair of throwing knives and twirls them around almost boredly.

The boy from District 3 sits to the side, just watching the other Careers. He and the District 5 boy joined them yesterday. Clearly, the District 3 boy isn't really a heavy weapons sort. He just eyes off the District 4 girl picks up a sword and examines it critically, then sets it back down.

"Mist, are you gonna train or just ogle at the Careers?"

Phoenix lowers his bow and gives me a disparaging glance, but then he's watching the Careers as well…no, wait, it's not the Careers. The District 9 pair has turned up at the heavy weapons station. At first I think they're joining the Careers – but then I watch as the girl pushes past them, the violet-eyed boy trailing behind her uncertainly, and picks up a sword. Her complete disregard for their intimidation tactics reminds me of Kenton the day before. I admire both of them.

* * *

**Jordan Falconhearst – District 1**

Today the Gamemakers call us in from lunch for private sessions. Basically, if we're going to show off, it's got to be now. As the boy from District 1, I'm first. 23 other tributes watch me as I leave. Cassie gives me the thumbs-up.

I feel very nervous. I mean, I've been practising at all the stations, sure…but what am I supposed to do that's going to impress the Gamemakers? Maybe I should spear something like I was practising…yeah, that seems like the best option. As I enter the gymnasium, the Gamemakers are all watching me attentively. By District 12, they'll probably lose interest.

They don't say anything to me. I think they see me as below their notice. I drag three dummies into a line and spear them all where their hearts would be if they were human. The Gamemakers watch, muttering amongst themselves. It's hard to tell if they're impressed or not.

I feel a bit stupid, really. They're not even paying that much attention. I feel sorry for the District 12 girl, going last. She's going to have one hell of a time trying to make these Gamemakers pay attention to her. I wonder what I'm going to get out of twelve. Dain will probably impress them. He'll swing an axe or chop with a sword or something.

"Thank you, Jordan," one of the Gamemakers calls, "You are dismissed."

I walk out feeling even more worried than when I came in. Scores might not really be that important, but getting a good score means you'll be seen as more of a threat, killed off earlier. I'm not sure whether I want a good score or not, if that's the case.

* * *

**Jenna Camyrielle – District 3**

I'm sitting nervously next to Donnicon, picking at my nails and flicking them to the floor. We're waiting for the scores to be announced on the television. I'm not sure what Donnicon did. He doesn't really want to talk about it. In fact, since he joined the Career pack, he hasn't really talked to me at all. I've hung out with Artemis from District 5 these past few days. She's worried about her brother, who has also joined the Career pack.

"Jenna," Donnicon mutters, nudging me with his elbow.

I look up and watch. There's a photo of each tribute, with their score flashed below it. It hardly surprises me that the Careers from 1 and 2 are all within the eight-to-ten bracket when it comes to score. Dain from District 2 earns himself a ten and I shiver in anticipation. When Donnicon's face flashes up, I'm astonished to see that he's got a seven. I turn to look at him, shocked. He looks a little disappointed.

Oh, no. What are they going to give me? I just did a few fancy flips and fired a few arrows. Donnicon raises his eyebrows at me and I roll my eyes. Then I look at the screen and I see the number seven there. The same as Donnicon.

The scores range from a two – Crow Sullivan of District 8 – to an eleven – Rocco Harkens of District 9. I'm a little shocked at Rocco's score. I've seen him training, but I always thought he was…well, not that good. Now all of the Careers are going to be going for him. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Most tributes get around a five or six. Artemis must have been pretty good – she earns an eight.

"So?" Daniel switches off the television and it's focus time.

Donnicon doesn't skip a beat. "We have to start with the District 9 guy. Rocco."

Daniel nods approvingly. "Yes, but remember, scores aren't everything. For all you know, a lot of the others could be far deadlier than him."

* * *

**Apollo Palein – District 5**

Artemis isn't talking to me. I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised. She didn't want anything to do with the Careers and now I've gone and joined them. Not that they're a nice bunch – well some of them are alright, like Tea and Jordan. In fact, I'd say that some of them are really nasty pieces of work. It's just that I reckon I'll stand more chance if I stick with them.

Artemis earns an eight in her training – same as me. I grin across at her, forgetting that she's not speaking to me.

"That's great, Artemis. What did you show them?"

"Leave me alone," she mumbles in retort.

I try and put an arm around her, but she just pushes me away before standing up, her eyes glimmering with anger.

"Why did you have to go and do that, Apollo? Why did you join the Careers?"

Her tone is accusing and I realize we're finally down to it now. Artemis has finally cracked. I didn't want to get in with the Careers and leave her out, but she just didn't want anything to do with them. Besides, she's in an alliance with Jenna now.

"It's my decision to make," I reply.

Artemis's eyes narrow. "You still didn't have to."

I throw up my hands and the words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

"Well, you know what? Even in the best case scenario, only one of us is getting out alive, Artemis. So what do you want from me? Do you want it to be like two years ago when the District 4 tributes were forced to turn on each other?"

Artemis just stares at me for a moment and then rushes out of the room. I can hear her crying.


	10. Who We Are

**A/N: Okay, guys. I don't normally do this, but...I've noticed there's a lack of reviews. If you're not really interested in this story then just say so. I'm rewriting this for you guys too. So if you're still wanting me to update, no joke, reviews really motivate me. I know I sound like a whinger, but I just really want to know what you lot think. Sorry for the rant. I'm not telling you guys to review. I'm asking you lot if you please can.**

**Also, if you haven't already, please check out Forbidden Fruit (under my normal pen name, Maddie Rose), and Nefarious (under my shared pen name, Smexi MnMs).**

* * *

**WHO WE ARE**

**Teryn Dazzle – District 7**

The interviews are today. I'm worried as I make my way out towards the stands along with Ashby. Jacques, our mentor, said that since I don't talk that much, I should play up the interview angle of being sweet and quiet. I simmer in quiet rage. I don't want that. I want to have a voice…but it's the truth. Better than having to play sexy, in any case.

My dress is long and a pale, sunshine yellow. I have to hold it in one hand to prevent myself from tripping over it. The interviews are hosted by a woman named Stella Collins. She's probably in her thirties and overly enthusiastic. Ashby and I take our seats and sit in silence as the interviews begin.

The girl from District 1 is fierce with a short temper. The boy from District 2 is a ruthless killer. The girl from District 3 is harsh and sarcastic. The girl from District 4 is playful and fun. The District 5 guy is friendly. After the boy from District 6 has finished, I'm fully aware that it's my turn.

I move down and shake Stella's hand and then she gestures for me to sit down. My knees are shaking and I feel really nervous. I know it's stupid. I mean, this is only talking. Heck, if I'm fretting about an interview, I'm going to die from cardiac arrest before I even enter the arena.

"That's a very nice dress you're wearing, Teryn," she compliments with a smile. "So, what's life like back home in District 7?"

"Umm." I try not to think of Nico Higgans, of my Peacekeeper father. "Well…not as colourful as here in the Capitol, I suppose."

Stella laughs. "Of course not. How about your seven in training, then? That's not a bad score."

"Isn't it?" I ask nervously, trying a small smile. "I guess it's more than half."

Stella asks a few more questions and I answer as best I can. I'm not even trying for the sweet and quiet now. It's just coming to me and I bet Jacques is proud.

* * *

**Rocco Harkens – District 9**

Angel is being interviewed at the moment. Harridan, our mentor, wanted her to go for sexy, but she kicked up a stink about that. She said she wanted to be seen as a tough girl, someone to be taken seriously. If she doesn't watch it, she's going to get herself killed in the bloodbath. I noticed the way the Careers eyed her curiously when she marched past for the swords. They're already wary of me because of my eleven. Jordan approached me and asked me to join…but I said no.

How am I supposed to express how I feel about Angel? God, she looks beautiful. Especially when she smiles. She's got such a lovely smile. I've tried so hard to act like my feelings don't exist. I have to admit it now, to myself, because soon enough I'll be dead: I'm in love with her. But I don't think she feels the same way.

I'm shaken out of my reverie when I realize it's my turn to be interviewed. I move down to sit across from Stella.

"So, Rocco. I'm guessing you've broken a fair few hearts with those violet eyes of yours, but now you've been showering Angel with attention."

God, no. I don't want people to know. I mean, if the Careers think know the truth, they'd use Angel against me. I wouldn't be able to take that. So I lean back lazily and give a bitter laugh. That's me, snarky Rocco. It's the 'bad boy' image I've managed to maintain…but the way I kissed Angel on the cheek showed my softer side. I let my guard down then. I won't do it again.

"I suppose, that was really just me playing up for the cameras." Lies, all lies. On-screen, hurt flashes across Angel's face and then her lips press into a hard line. She and I argued after I kissed her cheek. She told me that we couldn't do this whole romance thing, because we were going to die. That gives me a hint – she might not love me, but she does care.

* * *

**Jaeka Alexys Morrow – District 11**

That violet-eyed boy from District 9 is trouble. He's arrogant and cocky, but there's just something about him. He got an eleven in training, which is just proof that I should stay well away from him. I force myself to be strong as I'm called up for my interview. I think about my younger brother Camren, who Andre volunteered to save. I think of him and take a deep breath.

Stella seems nice, friendly enough. I don't know what made her take up a career of interviewing teenagers who are already dead. I sit down in front of her, wondering what kind of questions she's going to ask me.

"Jaeka…so who is it that you miss the most at home?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. I think of Liam. I think of Camren. There's a sliver of a chance of me ever seeing them again. Now I know how the Capitol destroys lives.

"Probably my boyfriend, Liam. And my little brother Camren."

Stella nods understandingly. Maybe she has a husband and kids. Not that she'd understand like I do the pain of having to give all of that up. I just want this interview to be over. I wish the Capitol would stop with all the niceties and the pretence, like the Hunger Games could ever be civil. Why don't they just shove us all into the arena already?

Stella asks a few more questions and I do my best to answer, all the while feeling sick to my stomach. I pity Andre, who volunteered to save my brother. I pity the other tributes, only one of who will survive. And most of all, pathetic as it may be, I pity myself.

* * *

**Aloe Templare – District 2**

Praetor has to keep reminding Dain and I to get along. I get with Praetor alright. He's gorgeous. So is Dain, I guess…but Dain is also a dickhead. I mean some of the time he's okay and the rest of the time is' like he's going to knife me. How long am I supposed to stay in an alliance with this guy?

"What did you two think of the interviews?" Praetor asks us over dinner. I'm fully aware that this is my last proper dinner at the Capitol. Tomorrow night, I dine in the arena. Or perhaps I don't dine at all.

Dain snorts. "Most of them seem pathetic. If they can't even talk what good are they going to be in the arena. But some of them were…interesting."

I raise my eyebrows. Normally Dain's not interested in anything or anyone but himself.

"Oh, really? Like who?"

"Not you," Dain snaps and I roll my eyes. "That Phoenix guy from District 12. Oh and the girl from District 9. Angel, or something." He laughs and I frown at him. I'm starting to think maybe Dain isn't quite right in the head. "Yeah, and that guy from District 10. Can't remember his name. The one who confronted Falcon and I at the heavy weapons station."

I shudder. Those three – Phoenix, Angel and Falcon – are pretty much as good as dead. Once Dain's got his mind set on something, I think he's the sort of guy who'd carry through. Praetor is just nodding slowly and then he turns his gaze on me.

"Aloe, can I talk to you for a second? Alone?"

Dain chuckles at my enthusiasm to leap to my feet. I follow Praetor out of the room and into the darkened hallway. His eyes dart back towards Dain, who is still lazing on the couch. There's something urgent in his eyes.

"Don't trust him, okay? Look, I know Dain well enough to tell you that it's dangerous if you have faith in him. Some people change in the arena. Some become courageous. Some become…well, monsters, for want of a better word. I'm just telling you that I think Dain's the second sort. I've seen what he's like already."

"Thanks, Praetor," I whisper, "For…for everything."

Then we're kissing. I don't know how it happens. I think I'm the one who initiated it but I'm not sure. It only lasts a few seconds – that bittersweet kiss that I'm sure will be my last – and then Praetor grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me gently away.

"Don't, Aloe. You're only going to make it harder."

* * *

**Falcon Martins – District 4**

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, we're in the arena. I don't want to think about it, but I'm going to have to accept it sometime or other. I can tell that Tea's nervous, too – although she won't admit it. We're both sitting down at dinner and Myliana is giving us her last words of advice. After this, we're going to be on our own.

"Should we go for the Cornucopia?" Tea asks almost boredly. She's toying with her food and I can tell that she just doesn't have the appetite. Neither do I, to be honest, but I know it's the last proper meal I'm going to be having for some time so I eat it all the same.

Myliana shrugs. "Why not? I mean, there's going to be a bloodbath anyway. You two are Careers. There are sixteen people you have to worry about."

I lean forward. "What about the others? How do we know they won't turn on us?"

Myliana laughs. It sends chills down my spine.

"You can't know. But most of the time the Careers will stick together and gut a few of the other tributes. The disintegration of the Career pack is later on. So basically, watch your back and get some weapons and supplies at the same time. If you perform well in the arena, you'll get sponsor gifts. Get it? It's that easy."

I exchange a disbelieving look with Tea. Yeah. Easy isn't the word I would have used, but whatever. After some more advice, Myliana inclines her head to us and wishes us all the best. Tea and I are both scared shitless, but we're not going to show it. We are Careers.

As we head to bed, I move across to Tea and smile, holding out my hand for her to shake. We'll be allies tomorrow, but the day after? Who knows.

"Good luck," I say.

She just shrugs uncomfortably. "Yeah, you too."

* * *

**Lyssa Oak – District 6 **

I sit on the roof, awake and alone. Tomorrow, the Games begin. I shrug my jacket tighter around my body, just wishing that I could forget about it. I don't want to die, but I'm pretty sure that I won't live either. Not against people like Rocco and Dain. They're just too powerful. I only hope that I can survive the bloodbath.

"You alright?"

It's Wolf. He sounds…concerned. Wow, that must be new for him. He normally doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself. He sits down beside me and puts his arm around my shoulders. It's not romantic. It's just a semblance of comfort between a girl and a boy who are doomed to die. Before I even know what I'm doing, I bury my face into his shoulder and start crying. I don't care who hears. I don't care who sees.

"Umm…" Wolf sounds uncomfortable. "Okay…"

I sniffle and wipe away my tears, looking over the glittering lights of the Capitol for the last time. Either I'm going to make it out of here – unlikely – or I'm going to die in the arena. I don't ever want to see this horrible place again. I'm so sick of pretending that everything's going to be alright.

Then I'm lying down on the cold ground with tears streaming down my face, my head rested against Wolf's knee. It's closer contact than either of us is comfortable with, but at the moment, none of that matters.

"I'm going to miss this," I whisper and I feel Wolf stiffen with surprise. His blue eyes bore down into my brown ones.

"What? The Capitol?" He sounds puzzled.

I give him a watery smile and choke back a sob.

"No. Being alive."


	11. Rivers of Blood

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! It really does mean a lot to me :) Also FOR THE CATO LOVERS, I have started writing a Cato/OC story called "She Wolf" under my normal penname (Maddie Rose). I would love if you checked it out and shared your thoughts! Anyway, on with the bloodbath!**

* * *

**RIVERS OF BLOOD**

**Crow Sullivan – District 8**

I've been marked with a tracker and been given my outfit for the arena. Pretty simple, really – denim jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a jumper for when it's cold at night, thick black boots. The same as all the other tributes – apart from each long-sleeved is a different colour depending on what district you're from. Evianna and I have white shirts.

Now all we're supposed to do is sit and wait. I'm not as confident as I was before. It would be a little better if I was with Evianna, but I'm alone in the Launch Room. Just waiting for the call to go out, the call to die. Well, if I don't survive. I'm not sure whether I should run for the Cornucopia. Eclipse, our mentor, said that we probably shouldn't.

Then comes the call that it's time for launch. I'm shaking as my stylist takes me over towards the circular plate I have to stand on. She's offering me soothing words that I don't even hear. A glass cylinder lowers around me – and then I'm whizzing up and what I face is a huge forest. My stomach starts to free-fall as I hear the announcer, Raven Bandello, booming over the arena.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games begin!"

It's the most painful sixty seconds of my life as I wait for the gong to sound. I look to my right. It's Cassie from District 1, looking at the massive Cornucopia and swallowing hard. To my left is Donnicon from District 3, whose expression is unreadable.

_BONG!_

I decide then and there that I'm going for the Cornucopia. I need weapons if I'm going to survive. Other tributes are racing there as well, bigger and faster than me. I nearly trip over my own feet as I stagger towards the Cornucopia, wondering if I'll even get there in time.

There is Aloe from District 2. She's whirling around to face me, her blue eyes blazing and a wicked knife in her hands. I don't even slow down as the knife impales me in the stomach. There is searing pain and I cry out in pain, cry out for mercy. Only there is nothing, nothing at all in Aloe's eyes as she pulls the knife ruthlessly from my stomach and slits my throat.

* * *

**Alexis Thyme – District 10**

If there was ever a hell on Earth, then this is it. This arena is _it._ As the gong sounds, everyone scrambles for the Cornucopia for their weapons. I'm fast, so I get there and grab a small pack, before darting off with it. Weapons don't matter so much to me. I just want to get out of there as quickly as possible. The Cornucopia's in a clearing right in the middle of the arena, so it's not so hard to get to the trees. When I do though, there's a shrill cry.

I whirl around and see Aloe stabbing Crow in the stomach, then pulling out the knife to cut his throat. I watch with fascinated horror as the youngest tribute in the arena is the first to die. Crow collapses to the ground, lifeless. I want to stare forever, but then I remember once the tributes have their weapons, they'll be on their way.

I've waited too long. I'm too close to the Cornucopia. There's a horrible agony coming from my back and then something drives through and sticks out of my chest. I want to scream…but I can't. My lungs are already filling with blood. Someone behind me has impaled me with a sword and when I hear the cruel laugh, I know exactly who it is.

"Sweet dreams," Dain whispers in my ear as I choke for air. Deliberately slowly, he withdraws his sword – and this time I do manage a warped, gurgling version of a scream. Dain kicks my legs out from underneath me and I crumple to the ground. I wait for him to deliver the killing blow as he stands above me, eyes glittering with glee, but he doesn't. He wants to take this slow.

I can't breathe. I can't move. I can only look up at my tormenter, so arrogant in the way that he just stands there and expects that no one will stop him, no one will kill him. I hear others screaming and I wonder if more people are dying. First Crow, now me.

Dying isn't like going to sleep. At least, not in the arena. There's so much pain, all over, that it's all I can do just to hold on. The last thing I ever see is Dain's cold, ruthless gaze as I slip into the black oblivion of death.

* * *

**Phoenix Desoleil – District 12**

It would be an overstatement if I said everyone's dying. I run to the Cornucopia and manage to snatch a bow and arrow before I start to move away. I don't want to get too cocky. Tributes who stay and hoard are the ones who end up getting knifed and I'm smarter than that.

I look around to see if I can see Mist, but I think she's gone already. The Careers have stayed to start a killing spree and I don't want to hang around to be part of it. I start towards the trees and that's when Lyssa from District 6 leaps out at me. She's wielding a knife, but by the fear in her eyes and her shaky grip on it, I'd guess she's never picked up a weapon in her life – well, apart from during training.

I'm not sure what drives me on. I think it's the fact that if I don't kill her, she'll kill me. I grab my bow from the quiver and draw my arm back and then forth, smashing her in the temple with it. Lyssa doesn't even make a sound as she crumples to the ground. At first I'm not sure, but when she doesn't move and I see the indent in her head, I'm sure that she's dead.

Over at the Cornucopia, it's only the Careers left – all eight of them. They're arguing now and I watch as Apollo shakes his head in disgust and points to the dead body of Alexis from District 10. Dain folds his arms across his chest and replies quite casually. Wow, dissention among the Careers already…things must not be good.

"Phoenix!"

Ashby and Teryn are staggering towards me. Ashby has a nasty gash on his forehead and carries a sword with him. Teryn's got a crossbow jiggling in her grasp. Neither of them look like they're going to kill me right now, so I lower my bow and arrow. I know what they want.

"Allies?" Ashby asks tentatively as they come right up to me. If I wanted to, I could kill them right now…but I'm not like that. Besides, alliances are always good. I nod slowly. I don't really know Teryn and Ashby well, but they seem okay.

"Yeah. I suppose."

* * *

**Cassie Leigh Night – District 1**

A yell of pain makes me whirl around as I'm stocking up, grabbing a couple of throwing knives. Behind me, Andre from District 11 is staggering backwards with an arrow in his chest. Tea lowers her bow and watches as Andre stumbles around for a bit, before he crumples to the ground. I just stare in abject shock. So this is what dying looks like. It isn't glorified one bit. It's brutal and it's pathetic. There's a cut down Tea's arm which makes me think Andre went at her before he was shot down.

"Let's get moving," Aloe barks. I glance around and realize that we Careers are the only ones left at the Cornucopia. Everyone else has legged it. Tea stashes her bow back into her quiver and shrugs. Dain is lazing around with his hands in his pockets. Apollo marches up to Dain and prods him none too gently in the chest.

"You," he spits, "I saw you did to that girl. I saw what you did to Alexis."

Dain just snickers. "So what?"

Apollo's eyes narrow dangerously. "She was just a kid!" he yelled angrily, jabbing a finger at Alexis's sad, crumpled body. Just a kid…yeah…she was my age. "You didn't make it quick, did you? You drew it out for as long as you could!"

Dain's starting to get annoyed now. I think Apollo better watch himself.

"How I kill is up to me," he retorts, then shrugs, "Hey, you don't like it, you can leave the group at any time."

I stare at my feet. I know as well as Apollo does that if he opted to leave right now, one of the others would kill him. Dain wouldn't just let him walk away. Apollo heaves a sigh and his shoulders slump, but he shakes his head slowly. I glance across at Tea and she's looking pretty unhappy as well.

"Fine." Apollo mutters through clenched teeth. "I'll stay."

Someone scrambles out from behind the Cornucopia. I blindly throw one of my knives before I can even see who it is. There's a shrill scream of pain as Evianna from District 8 staggers into view, looking down at the knife embedded in her chest. A wave of panic overwhelms me and for just a moment, I want to take it back. I didn't know it was Evianna. I didn't know…

She trips and falls forward – onto her front. I have to look away as the knife skewers her even more indefinitely. Evianna's dead. The other Careers are watching me and I know I can't look weak. I have to prove that I'm worthy of being one of them. I stride towards Evianna and flip her over, taking care to avoid looking at the mess of her chest and her cold, glassy eyes. I yank the knife from her and wipe it on the denim of my pants, feeling sick to my stomach.

* * *

**Artemis Palein – District 5**

I make sure I'm well away from the Cornucopia and well into the trees when I sink to my knees. I want to cry but I know this is televised all over Panem. I'm not going to let them know that I'm weak, so I just breathe deeply like I'm out of breath. Jenna just watches me with a sympathetic expression. She and I teamed up as soon as we reached the Cornucopia. It's starting to get dark now and although it's lonely with only the two of us, it's better than being alone.

Jenna must know how I feel…sort of. Her district partner abandoned her…but he wasn't her brother. I suggest we make a fire, but Jenna just stares at me with horror, as if I'd just suggested I was going to rip her heart out.

"Are you nuts?" she demands. "That's going to be like a beacon for the Careers."

_The Careers…my brother…_

It's so cold. Jenna and I are forced to huddle together, using our jackets as makeshift blankets. I keep my bow within arm's reach just in case I need it. Through the canopy of trees, I see the seal of the Capitol as the anthem starts to play. My heart speeds up, because I know now that they're going to go over today's deaths. I wonder if Apollo will be one of them. I brace myself.

Five tributes. I suppose that's considered a small number. I already know it's only five because we heard the cannons a few hours ago, when the fighting at the Cornucopia must have stopped. The first face shown is the girl from District 6, so I know that all of the Careers, including my brother, are alive. Then there's both from 8. I feel a pang of pity for them…so young, both so young. Then there's the girl from District 10 and the boy from District the Capitol seal with the anthem again.

"Are you happy that your brother is alive?" Jenna whispers through the darkness.

I sigh heavily. "I'm not sure. Not if it means I'll have to kill him myself."

"I'll do it for you," Jenna offers. "If it comes to that."

I don't say anything, but I'm thinking, _if you're still alive._ If we're both still alive, really. There's a rustling in the bushes. Someone's coming. I fumble for my bow and Jenna throws her jacket off to struggle for her sword.

Then I recognize the boy as he sinks to his knees. For one terrible moment, I think he's hurt. Then Apollo lifts his head and I realize that he's not hurt, just tired and panting heavily. He must have run a long way. I think…I think he's run away from the other Careers.

"Artemis," he rasps, "Artemis, I'm so sorry. I made a mistake."


	12. Die Another Day

**A/N: A big thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate the support and commentary. Okay, only minor changes to this chapter again, but hope you enjoy nonetheless.**

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**DIE ANOTHER DAY**

**Ashby Soulas – District 7**

I wake up to realize that we've overslept. We've long overslept. I look across to Phoenix and Teryn. They're both still fast asleep. I don't know why I make the decision to pack up my things and just leave them there. Maybe I think I'll be better if I work alone. Whatever.

The only thing I managed to get from the Cornucopia was the sword I now carry. I wish I'd got a pack or something more useful. I'm parched with thirst now and my rumbling stomach reminds me that I haven't had anything to eat for a while now. I trudge on, my feet feeling like twin stones attached to my legs. Damn, I can't even hunt anything with this stupid sword – not that I know how to anyway.

It's mid-afternoon by the time I realize that I've got company. Someone steps out of the bushes – and it takes a moment to realize that it's Jaeka from District 11. She's so covered in mud and leaves, so perfectly camouflaged with her environment that only her pink shirt gives away what district she's from.

We just stand there for a moment. Jaeka and me, me and Jaeka. She raises her scythe and lowers it, seeming to think the better of it. She strides towards me and somehow I know she's not going to kill me. It could be a trick, but I don't think it is.

"Hey." Jaeka holds out her hand for me to shake. "I've got something really interesting that I can show you. But you need to be my ally first. Otherwise, we'll just have to fight it out."

I'm curious and that's all it takes. I reach out and shake Jaeka's hand, nodding. I want to be her ally. She seems smart – after all, she managed to camouflage herself so well amongst the trees that I didn't know she was there until she chose to reveal herself. That's when I know she's wanted to be my ally, been considering it, because otherwise she would have killed me already.

Jaeka smiles. "Okay then. Come with me. It's about an hour's trek. The only reason I left in the first place was because they were rigging something up and I didn't want to get caught by them."

I don't know what she's talking about, but I follow her anyway. After about half an hour, she almost reluctantly offers me her bottle. She must have got it from the Cornucopia. I tilt my head back and take a sip of the cool, sweet water. Let me tell you, it tastes so good. After I have a gulp, Jaeka snatches her bottle back. We might be allies, but she wants to keep her things to herself. I have no argument with that. Hey, she earned it.

Jaeka presses a finger to her lips and gestures for me to get down low. We crawl through the undergrowth, slithering on our bellies and army-crawling for a couple of minutes before Jaeka nods decisively, and we get up ever so slightly.

What I see is amazing. The first thing I notice is the lake right in the middle of this clearing. This must have been where Jaeka got her water from. Then I notice the campsite that's been set up. I know from a glance that these must be the Careers. Only seven of them now – where's Apollo? I didn't hear a cannon go off, so he's not dead.

They've got two tents. I don't know how, but I think probably from some packs. It's way too early in the Games for sponsors to be sending anything. Two of the boys – Jordan from District 1 and Falcon from District 4 – are stacking up what food they've managed to salvage. They must have gone hunting overnight…and I'm guessing not just for food.

The District 3 boy, Donnicon, is tinkering with something over the far side of the camp. His curly head is bent over his work and I can't see his face. Jaeka grabs me and pulls me around, turning me around to face her.

"He's setting up a trap," she whispers, "It's so if other tributes try and raid the camp, they'll get blown to pieces. That's not all, though. There are also other traps over…"

But where the other traps are, I never get to here. Because the next minute, Jaeka is screaming and someone is hauling her to her feet. There's someone behind me, too. I try and turn, but already the enemy has me by the hair and is yanking me up.

It's the District 2 tributes. Jaeka is thrashing wildly in Dain's grasp. He's grinning like a madman and he presses his sword to her stomach. Aloe has a knife to my back and I don't dare and move. I can only watch as Dain slices Jaeka – slices her open. Her insides spill out and she's dead before she hits the ground. Dain retreats back a few steps and the sound of the cannon is deafening.

I vomit noisily. My God…what sort of monster would do that to another _person?_ Now I know exactly what Dain is like. He doesn't just kill – he does it in the most horrific, brutal ways imaginable. Now I know he wasn't exaggerating in his image as a ruthless killer.

Aloe's lips have pressed together in distaste, but then her knife stabs down into my throat. She throws me unceremoniously aside and in my last moments of life, I crawl towards Jaeka's motionless body. Then the cannon sounds in my last moment of consciousness and I know that it's my cannon.

* * *

**Angel Ferriday – District 9**

I can't help but think about yesterday's events at the Cornucopia – and I know that I've already made a deadly enemy. I didn't mean for it to happen. I reached for the long knives just as Dain reached for me. Panicking, I lashed out – and Dain growled in pain and I saw with shock that I'd carved a red line down his face. Instead of attacking me, Dain tilted his head to the side and ran his hand down the cut, then licked the blood off his fingers.

That's when I turned and ran. I knew what that meant. Dain would remember me cutting him and he would hunt me down and kill me – not quickly, either. I wouldn't stand a chance, especially considering I was alone now. I'm not sure if Rocco is feeling mad at me because I pushed him away, but I haven't seen him since the Cornucopia.

I suppose being from District 9 gives me an advantage. I know how to hunt. I manage to use some snares – also found at the Cornucopia – to trap a rabbit. I'm eating it sparingly so that there's still some left for later…if I'm still alive later. A cannon sounds and makes me jump out of my skin. I pause and a few moments later, there's a second cannon. Two more tributes dead. I wonder who they are. I guess I'll find out tonight.

I go to gather my things. Those cannons are far too close for my liking and I want to move just in case whoever killed those tributes is heading in my direction. As I grab my things and get up, a hand clamps over my mouth and I'm pulled against someone's chest. I fight, but I know better than to scream – which would have been my first, stupid reaction.

"_Don't _scream." It's Rocco, his breath hot on my neck and his voice right in my ear. "I'm not here to hurt you, Angel."

Somehow, that isn't so convincing when I'm pressed against him with his hand over my mouth. I rip his hand away and whirl around to glare at him – only Rocco isn't alone. He's accompanied by Phoenix from District 12 and Teryn from District 7.

"Oh." Teryn's voice is flat. "I thought it might have been Ashby."

I raise my eyebrows. Wow, I didn't know I was a dead ringer for Ashby.

"Sorry, I didn't know we were twins," I snap, my irritation at having being crept up on getting to me and making me sarcastic. "I did hear a couple of cannons nearby though. Maybe you'll find him in that direction."

Phoenix smirks and Teryn turns pale. Rocco frowns at me in a way I assume means he doesn't appreciate my sarcasm.

"Wow." Phoenix sounds impressed. "You didn't tell us your girl was such a spitfire, Rocco."

_His _girl? I round on Rocco, my eyes narrowing. He holds up his hands in defense. I know how he feels even if he won't admit it. I've seen it in those violet eyes of his. I saw the way he looked across at me when Aloe was flirting with him a little during training. He's in love with me. I don't want it to be true, but it is. The only problem is, I'm not sure how I feel about him. Do I love him back?

"I didn't know I was _your girl._"

Rocco's eyes harden, but he doesn't say anything. I size up our new allies. Teryn's tougher than she looks if she's made it this far. Phoenix – well, he just seems like the sort who'd survive. I don't know what it is. Perhaps it's because he's from 12. I sigh heavily and reluctantly share out the last of my rabbit. Rocco, Teryn and Phoenix eat greedily. It's probably been a while since they've eaten. I'm surprised at this, because Rocco was always a better hunter than I was.

"So what's the plan?" I ask of them. Now we've sated our hunger, but we're still thirsty. Everyone got weapons from the Cornucopia – which this year, is built like a forest fortress and is three storeys – and no one stopped to get anything of real use.

"Survive?" Phoenix suggests, and then chuckles like it's actually funny. I roll my eyes and Teryn notices this and giggles.

"What about the Careers?" Rocco asks, his violet eyes blazing.

Phoenix looks at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious. There are eight of them, Rocco. It's suicide. Even with your eleven."

Rocco's cheeks burn bright red and he busies himself adjusting the string on his bow. He's excellent with throwing knives and long-range weapons, but he couldn't use a sword to save himself. He'd be hopeless with my long knives.

"I say we look for water." We all glance across at Teryn. She's smarter than we thought. "I mean, if we don't find any soon, we're going to die of dehydration, right? So we look for a water source. We have to be careful though and use like a purifier."

Phoenix glances around at us. "Anyone reckon they're up for sponsors?"

I shake my head and Rocco shrugs. What are we going to do to attract Harridan's attention? Teryn's idea is a good one, but first we need the purifier. There have been times when a tribute or two have died from consuming unsafe water.

I glance across at Rocco and that's when I figure out my plan. Harridan must know he's in love with me. In fact, I'm pretty sure most of Panem knows after the whole chariot thing. The thing I've got to do now is break down those steel barriers of his and make him show it.

* * *

**Dain Winters – District 2**

I'm surrounded by idiots. Apollo must have legged it during the night because when I got up in the morning, he was gone and the rest of the group was bickering – apart from Donnicon. He was setting up some traps and snares. Then Aloe and I went hunting, trying to find some more food…and we came across Jaeka from District 11 and Ashby from District 7. It was hilarious the way Jaeka screamed and screamed until I cut her apart. Then Aloe stabbed Ashby in the throat and it was all over.

We're bold enough to set up a campfire. Let the other tributes see us, let them try and attack – and then they'll be blown to smithereens. Tea and Falcon managed to catch a measly amount of fish earlier on, so that's dinner. We all eat in silence. Tea's looking unhappy. I wonder if she'll be the next to leave…not that I care, because she isn't much use anyway.

I'm thinking about that girl from District 9, Angel. She sliced my face. I run my finger down the jagged cut that's still there. I'm going to take my sweet time with her. I'm going to save her until last if I can. I'll relish her screams. The little bitch will get what's coming to her. No one messes with me like that and gets away with it.

A parachute for Cassie lands and it's bread. There's an argument because first of all she just wants to share it with Jordan, her district partner, but then Aloe convinces her that because we're a group she has to split it up between the seven of us.

"Dain?" Aloe turns to glance at me. It's no secret that she dislikes me, but for now we're stuck together. I suppose she's not so bad. She managed to kill Ashby without being a wimp about it. "Any ideas for what we do next?"

It's like I'm the unspoken group leader. My lips curve into a smirk.

"What do you think? We hunt down the other tributes."

The others chatter animatedly about this. After all, we are Careers. Killing off other tributes is what we do. We're the strongest. We're the predators. The other tributes fear _us_. So far there are only seven dead – but that number's going to increase very soon.

"What are we going to do about Apollo?" Cassie asks, licking the last remnants of fish from her fingers.

Aloe laughs hoarsely. "We're going to kill him, Cassie. What did you think?"

Cassie looks a little surprised and I refrain from rolling my eyes. Please. What did she think was going to happen? The Careers turn against each other eventually. Apollo's probably gone crawling back to his sister and – Jenna, is it? – Donnicon's partner from District 3.

When I think about it, what chance do the others stand against us? We were all at the Cornucopia the longest, so we've got weapons and supplies. The other tributes can try and steal our stuff, but Donnicon's set up a trap…and if it doesn't work, then he's gone, because that's about the only use he has.

Night's fallen. Aloe and Tea are bickering over something stupid when the anthem starts to play and the Capitol seal shows up in the night sky. I glare over at the pair of them.

"Shut up."

Tea falls silent immediately. Aloe just glares right back but remains quiet as I lie back and look up at the sky. Well, well. I wonder who died today? Ha, what a joke, because I already know. Only two cannons went off today. Aloe and I are responsible.

Sure enough, the first person shown is Ashby from District 7. Then there's Jaeka from District 11. The anthem and the seal again. Only two died today. Jeez, we really need to pick up the pace. It's so boring just being here down by the lake. I need blood. I need to kill again.

We decide on a guard just in case someone does manage to get past the traps Donnicon has set. After more squabbling, we decide that Jordan will guard first. I sleep a little outside the tent – because there are only two tents and having to share with other people bugs me. Besides, I managed to get the tent last night.

The girls are whispering in their tent and every now and then, one of them giggles. I feel a sting of annoyance. What the fuck is this, Girl Guide camp? After a few moments, one of the girls gasps and then I hear Cassie's voice.

"_You kissed your mentor?_"

She is fiercely shushed by Tea and Aloe. Somehow, I don't think it's Tea that they're talking about. Her mentor is a girl. I mean it's possible…but considering Aloe's attraction to Praetor, my lips curve into a smirk. Poor, pathetic Aloe.

"It's starting to rain," Jordan calls across from where he's keeping guard with a spear in his lap. "Maybe you should get inside the tent."

Then he curses and claps a hand onto his hand, where a drop of rain has fallen. I hear the unmistakable hiss and see the steam rising from his skin. We both exchange horrified glances and I know that this isn't normal rain.

"Get up!" I shout, clambering to my feet and starting to fumble among the supplies, "Everyone, get up! Acid rain!"

It's coming down heavier now. We have to get to the trees. The only problem is, because of Donnicon's traps, we have to move towards the edge of the lake and go around. By the time we get to the trees, we're going to be toast.

Jordan's already running around the long way with his jacket hoisted over his head. I notice that when the acid spits down onto it, nothing happens. The fabric must be resistant. Gritting my teeth, I shove as much as I can into my pack and copy Jordan's move as I run towards the trees. The other are still scrambling out of the tents.

The acid rain hasn't touched the forest. It must just be in certain places. Jordan and I pant as we watch the others sprinting across the distance with their jackets over their heads. We only had time to grab a few of the supplies and I swear bitterly and kick at the dirt.

"We're going to have to stop here," Tea says.

I'm mad. Before I was confident about taking out the other tributes, but now my own plans have been ruined.


	13. Alliances

**ALLIANCES**

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**A/N: A huge thanks to my reviewers! Sorry this has taken a while; assignments and all. Hope you enjoy!**

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**Tea Ryan – District 4**

Day 3 and I'm already sick of being a Career. I wake up with a crick in my neck before I remember that we had to run to the safety of the forest because of the acid rain. All the supplies have been destroyed, or so it seems. I don't want to go and take a look because I don't exactly remember the safe route.

Dain's a prick. Aloe told Cassie and me that he laughed as he sliced open Jaeka from District 11. Aloe's a killer, too – hell, we all are – but her mouth twisted in disgust. I felt sick. Dain seems like a psychopath and I just want out of this stupid alliance. I glance around at everyone else. They're asleep. Maybe I should leave now…because I can't leave otherwise. They'd kill me.

Most of the supplies are in Dain's pack. There's no way I'm stealing any though. If Dain wakes up and catches me, he'd kill me. So I just grab my bow and arrow, my share of the supplies. It's not uncommon for the Career pack to split up, except it normally happens later on in the Games. I know I have to move fast if I don't want to be caught, so once I've got everything I'm sprinting off into the forest. Somehow, I'm pretty sure that I'm not going be getting sponsors anytime soon. So I run. And I don't stop.

I think I keep moving for about an hour. Not running – I couldn't run non-stop for an hour. Sometimes I slow to a walk, but I always keep moving. Not that I think the Careers are hunting me…they'd be too busy with the other tributes, but I'd be a welcome bonus. I keep worrying that I'm going to turn around and they'll be right behind me.

By the time I stop, I'm gasping for breath. I press my back against the tree and slide down it, just trying to remember how to breathe. I fish around in my pack and pull out a water bottle. It's still full from the lake. I greedily gulp some down…before I have to tell myself to stop. Who knows how long it will be before I either get back to the lake or find another water source. I push the cap back down on the bottle and just sit there for a while.

Things have been progressing slowly this year. It feels weird, because this year, I'm part of the Games. Only seven tributes are dead and it's Day 3. It must be getting boring for the Capitol. Soon enough, they're going to do something drastic. For now, though, I just need to focus on staying alive. I know now that I have to stick this out alone. I've ditched the Careers, but all the other tributes will kill me on sight because they'll think I _am_ a Career.

I should probably find myself some food. My best option is fishing down at the lake, but that would mean risking bypassing the Careers. It's odd to know I'm not one of them anymore. Heck, I didn't expect it to last through the entire Games, but I'm the first real Career to leave the group. Apollo was never really one of us…and Donnicon is more of a Career than I am.

My nose twitches. I can smell fire. It's daylight, but that doesn't mean it's any safer to light a fire. Whichever tribute did this is really stupid. Someone's going to find them, whether it's a Career or another tribute. I don't head towards them because there might be more than one, and then I would be screwed.

Then I freeze completely. Because the smell is now clogging my nostrils, choking me. I know that this isn't a campfire. It's an inferno. I can see it now, the amber flames licking at the trees, burning through the fuel load…and I'm staggering to my feet, grabbing my stuff and tearing away from there as fast as I can. I know where I'm going. I just don't know what it might cost me.

I'm nearly tripping over my own feet just to escape the inferno. I don't care how fast I'm going. I wouldn't even care if another tribute jumped right in front of me. I'd just bowl them down and keep running. The fire's moving fast, maybe even faster than me, but I've got a head start. I can see the edge of the lake – but there's a sheer drop from this piece of land into it.

My heart's hammering in my chest and my lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. I stop suddenly at the end of the cliff, looking down. It's not that high, but if I don't fall in the right way, I'll be just as screwed as if I was jumping onto normal land.

There's no time to think, though. The fire's gaining on me and every second is a second wasted if I don't do something. Taking a deep breath, I throw myself off the edge of the cliff. I keep my legs together and fold my arms over my chest to try and minimize impact. The fire roars to the spot where I was just standing and that's the last thing I think before I smack down into the unforgiving water of the lake.

* * *

**Kenton Deins – District 10**

I cough profusely, but I just focus on running. That's really all I can do now. I'm not a climber or a swimmer. Against the crackling greed of the fire, all I have is the option of fleeing. I've always been a good long distance runner and it's saving my life…for now. There's a rustling from the bushes and I'm a bit pissed off now. What is this? First fire and now another tribute coming to kill me?

There's a flash of bronze hair and the next thing I know, Mist from District 12 is running right next to me. She's not trying to kill me. I'm not even sure she knows I'm here. She's just trying to escape the fire like me. In the distance, I hear a girl's scream – but no cannon. Who is it? She must still be alive.

Mist and I tear through the trees at breakneck speed. I'm a little faster, but Mist manages to keep up. The crackling grows more distant and the smoke isn't as thick now. I keep running, though. Just in case. I know that the fire is a Gamemaker weapon. It must be getting boring at the Capitol with only seven tributes having been killed. They're trying to push us towards us each other, for more blood.

I finally stop, coughing and panting. Mist doubles over and vomits. When she looks up, I'm expecting that she and I will have to fight. But then a tired smile crosses her face and she moves over to me with her hand held out.

"Mist. District 12."

I shake her hand. I know she's from District 12 – she's wearing a purple shirt. "Kenton. District 10. You're…you're not going to kill me?"

Mist just grins. "Nope. We were just running for our lives from fire. I think we're all good for now. Maybe we should form an alliance."

I nod. "Yeah. Maybe."

Mist gives a wheezy laugh and sits down. We're both thirsty and hungry from all that running, but neither of us have bottles or any real sort of supplies with us. She smiles. I just realize that Mist has a beautiful smile. She's actually very pretty. When it comes to making alliances, I could do a lot worse.

"Do you think it's over?" she asks of me.

"What, the fire?" I shrug. "Yeah. For now. Until the Gamemakers decide that they need to push us a little more."

Mist fumbles through her supplies and frowns as she realizes that she doesn't have her jacket with her. It must have been left behind when she'd packed up her things and started running from the fire.

"Damn. Oh well, I guess I won't really need it tonight. It's warm out now."

"So." I sit down. With the fire having just burned through, I doubt that there'll be anything for me to hunt…even if I was even very good at hunting. "What's life like in District 12?"

Mist stiffens a little as she realizes I'm attempting conversation. This happens sometimes in the arena, when alliances are being forged. The kids talk about their pasts and everything. Not really so interesting to the Capitol, but often the districts feel that they understand their tributes better.

"Well…my father's always been insistent that we enter the Hunger Games. My brother Trent was picked for the 23rd Hunger Games…and he died. My mum…" Mist shakes her head but then she laughs bitterly. "You know what? It doesn't matter anymore. Because I don't know whether I'm going to win or not and I think it's time I told the truth. My dad was trying to get my sister Zoey picked for the Hunger Games last year. Mum found out and committed suicide."

I inhale sharply. What kind of parent would want that for their children? Especially in District 12, which isn't even a Career district. I don't want to question Mist's father, but I think she can see it in my eyes because she offers me a grim smile.

"Yeah, my dad's like that. Then there's my younger Skye and…" Mist's voice breaks and for a moment, I think she might cry…except when she looks at me there are no tears in her eyes. "And if I don't win these Hunger Games, she'll be the next in the arena."

I pity Mist. Her family sounds so broken. I wonder what happened to the older sister, Zoey. I don't remember a Zoey from District 12 in the Hunger Games last year. Mist is sniffing, but not crying. She tilts her chin and glances across at me.

"What about you, Kenton? What's District 10 like?"

I shrug. "Not particularly interesting. My mother was killed by a Peacekeeper when I was five years old. The mayor's son hates me and convinced everyone to vote for me, which is probably why I'm here now."

We both sit there in silence for a little while. Okay, well, we've both opened up to each other. Maybe this means this are going to get better between us. I just wonder how long this alliance is going to last. Mist seems nice and all – but normally by the time you reach the final eight, the alliances tear themselves apart and everyone starts turning on each other. I hope that doesn't happen, because the more I get to know Mist, the more I like her. I wish these Games weren't so cruel. They brought Mist and I together, but they're going to tear us apart again, too.

* * *

**Jordan Falconhearst – District 1**

By the time I wake up, Dain is already pissed off. Well, what's new? I know we're in an alliance and all, but there's no doubting the fact that he's a few cards short of a whole deck. You know, a little crazy. Falcon and Aloe are trying to calm him down. At first I think it's because the supplies have been lost to the acid rain – which might be part of the reason – but then I look around and realize that someone's missing.

It's Tea. No big surprise there. She wasn't very happy with us anyway. Well, she got along fine with Aloe and Cassie – most of us, really – I just think she despised Dain. Most of us do anyway. From the way the argument's going, it sounds like Dain wants to hunt Tea down and kill her. Falcon is attempting to dissuade him – because of course, Tea's his district partner – and Aloe is half-hearted like she doesn't know which side to take.

"I'll kill her," Dain spits. It's ironic how when he's killing tributes he's cool and calm, but when it comes to people not respecting his authority he goes totally nuts. "With my bare hands. Don't think I can't do it."

"No one said you can't." Aloe sounds tired. "Dain, just leave it. Just for now, okay? If we catch up with her, _then_ we'll kill her. But right now? We need to sort ourselves out."

We're down to six. This is okay though, because most Career packs have six anyway. We're fortunate that we had more, but with Apollo and Tea having left us, the numbers are dwindling. No one else seems as reluctant as Tea, so I'm hoping that our group stays together…at least for now.

Donnicon's still snoring away on the ground. Dain grits his teeth and kicks him viciously in the side. He jerks up and stares up at Dain with a disapproving frown.

"Don't give me that look," Dain snarls, "Get to it."

I move over to help Donnicon to his feet.

"He's annoyed," I mutter under my breath, "Tea must have left during the night."

Everyone's rummaging for their weapons. Looks like we're going hunting. Cassie pulls out her throwing knives and Aloe grabs her dagger. Dain sheathes his sword with a gleam in his eyes. Falcon hefts up his axe and I find myself pulling up my spear. Donnicon looks somewhat pathetic with only a small knife in his hand. He's the brains, not the brawn. We need him still, which is why Dain hasn't killed him yet.

"We going hunting?" Falcon asks, looking to Dain for confirmation. I hate how Dain's the unspoken leader. I'd take over the position, if only he wouldn't knife me in the back for it. Dain inclines his head and grins.

"Hunting for food…and hunting for tributes."

Aloe whirls her dagger experimentally and Cassie stows her throwing knives. Everyone's getting really into this. Despite myself, I know that I am, too. God, I don't want to become a monster. I just want to get home to Luka. If I live, I'm marrying her as soon as I get back. We start off through the trees after Donnicon tries to salvage what he can from the wreckage of our camp. It's not much.

I know I stand a good chance of winning – well, somewhat. I'm a Career. I've been tried to fight my entire life. I didn't want to be put in the Games, but I'll make the most of what I have. We're the most skilled warriors in the arena. We'll fight it out to the death – and stand a good chance at surviving. I just hope I don't get too close to these people. Not Dain – I could never really like him. But Cassie's almost like a little sister to me now.

We trek for some time before Cassie turns and nods at the rest of us, swapping the throwing knives for the bow and arrows she took from Evianna when she killed her at the Cornucopia. Her eyes narrow in concentration and I watch, fascinated, as the youngest Career fells a prowling wolf that I hadn't even noticed before now.

"Well done, Cass." I compliment as we get to work dividing the wolf into equal portions. It's easier now that there are only six of us. Cassie shrugs, retrieving her arrow from the wolf's body and wiping it on her jacket like it's no big deal.

We start a small fire and roast the wolf over it. Let the other tributes come and get us. We're the Careers. We're supposed to be invincible. Well, for now at least. When the wolf is ready to eat, the meat is stringy, but I'm not complaining. We have to be eating better than most of the other tributes in the arena – except perhaps District 9, the hunters.

A few moments later, a small silver parachute lands in Cassie's lap. It's a well-done for her skill with hunting. She pulls out a bottle of water – which is good, because we left most of ours down by the lake when we had to run into the forest.

"We should camp here," Donnicon advises, the first person to speak in about ten minutes, "There's a thick canopy overhead and the trees are close here. The other tributes would have a hard time getting us in here. If you want, I can set up some mines…"

Dain shakes his head. "Not necessary. We need to be able to get _out_, Donnicon. What did you manage to get from the lake?"

Donnicon shrugs. "Not an awful lot. The food's gone. Drink bottles, too. Even the fabric of the tents was eaten away by the acid."

I touch where a drop of acid rain fell on my scar. There's a little burn mark there and I don't think it's going away. Maybe I'll have a scar.

After we've packed up the rest of the wolf meat for later on, Falcon suggests we scour the forest for any tributes. We spend most of the afternoon doing that, but the others have scattered now. There aren't any tributes around or if there are, we can't see them because they're hiding really well. Dain begins to get moodier as the day progresses. Aloe is fidgeting in boredom and even Falcon looks put out.

"There's always tomorrow." I remind them, trying to be optimistic.

Aloe makes an impatient noise and sits down. Apparently, tomorrow is too long to wait.

* * *

**Jenna Camyrielle – District 3**

It's quiet. Too quiet. I sneak a glance across at Apollo, who's unrolling a sleeping bag that he got from sponsors. I wouldn't admit it to Artemis, but he's cute. He sees me staring and I flush self-consciously, brushing a green streak of hair out of my eyes. It's been a little hard to trust him, considering he was with the Careers, but if his own sister has forgiven him, I guess it's not my place to hold a grudge.

"You think the Careers will come after you?" Artemis asks of Apollo, as if she's read my mind.

He shakes his head slowly. "Nope. Dain's got it out for Angel, so I'm guessing they're going after some of the other tributes first."

I hope that's true. I'm not ready for the Careers now. Not ever, really. But eventually we'll probably have to confront them. Night's starting to fall and I haven't heard cannons at all today. Maybe they're just too far away, or maybe no one's died. I guess we'll just have to find out.

I lay back with a heavy sigh as the anthem plays and the Capitol seal glimmers in the sky – but that's it. No dead tributes, not today. The crowd must be getting frustrated. Only seven dead on Day 3. These Games are progressing way too slowly.

I think about where the other tributes must be. There was acid rain to the east and a fire in the forest a few miles north, so I'm guessing some of them are hanging around those places…or at least, they _were_. I wonder where they've gone now. Perhaps I don't want to know.

Artemis sits up, ticking off on her fingers. "Okay. So far, these are the dead: the girl from 6, the boy from 7, both from 8, the girl from 10 and both from 11."

It's weird for so few to be dead. Normally around half of the tributes die at the bloodbath, but this year not even a quarter did. This is probably because, having been voted for, most of this year's tributes are survivors. We're all fighting for our lives and because this is the First Quarter Quell, we're fighting even harder. It doesn't surprise anyone that all of the Careers are still alive.

"Who was killed at the bloodbath?" I inquire. Because of course, I didn't exactly stick around. I just grabbed my sword and got out of there.

Apollo scratches his chin. The Careers normally stay at the Cornucopia longest.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that Ashby from 7 and Jaeka from 11 were still alive at that point. Their cannons went off yesterday, so I'm guessing that they probably had a run-in with the Careers."

Most tributes are killed by Careers, so this doesn't surprise me. I'm betting most of the kids who died at the bloodbath were victims of the Careers, but either Apollo didn't kill any or he doesn't want to talk about it.

"You didn't kill either of the District 8 kids, did you?" Artemis's voice is hard and I know why. The pair from 8 were only thirteen and fourteen years old.

Apollo shook his head fervently. "No. I didn't kill any of them. One of the reasons I left the Careers is…well, when Dain killed Lyssa, he took his time. He didn't make it humane. He made her suffer and…it disgusted me."

I didn't really know Lyssa that well. All I know is that she was my age and she was from District 6. I feel a wave of sadness that the Games do this to us. We don't even _know _the people we kill. We do it because otherwise we'd die ourselves. It turns people who should just be normal teenagers in ruthless killers.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" Artemis asks, holding up her empty water bottle from the Cornucopia, "We haven't had anything to drink for ages." Her voice cracks slightly. "And food…we've got no food."

Apollo places a hand on Artemis's shoulder. "It's okay, sis. Tomorrow we'll see if we can find some water. As for food? Well, we'll just have to see what we can find. You're named after the goddess of the hunt, Artemis."

She gives a dry chuckle at that, but I'm staring at the pair of them with nothing but pity. At least one of them is going to die. They have a strong relationship – a little tense now because of what Apollo did, but they still love each other. I just wonder how long it's going to last.

"Jenna?" Apollo turns to face me. "What do you think?"

I shrugged. "Not sure. We'll just have to trek around and see what we can find."

I don't mention that other tributes are just what we might find. I don't want to make Artemis any more upset. For a moment Apollo and I just look at each other, and then I drop my gaze. Dammit, my cheeks are getting hot now and I must be going red. If only he wasn't so good-looking.

"I'll take first watch," I offer.

Apollo shakes his head. "No, it's fine. You two sleep. I'll stay up. I'm not really tired anyway."

I know it's a lie, but I'm grateful for his chivalry. I offer him a wan smile and curl up beside Artemis, dragging my jacket over me to keep me warm. It's not big enough to cover all of me, so I'm surprised when I find a moment later that even my legs are warmed. I look down and see that Apollo has put his jacket over me and Artemis.

"Aren't you cold?" I whisper. Artemis is already asleep.

Apollo shrugs. "Only a little. Don't worry about me, Jenna. Just get some sleep, okay?"


	14. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

**KISS KISS, BANG BANG**

* * *

**A/N: Wow, 80 reviews! I am amazed! Thank you all, especially ckrets, who went through and reviewed every single chapter! Thanks so much! Let's see if we can hit 100 reviews by chapter 16!**

* * *

**Apollo Palein – District 5**

I'm not even aware that I've fallen asleep before I jerk awake again. Great, Day 4 in the arena. Well, at least I'm still alive. I'm grateful for Artemis for being so forgiving, even though I turned my back on her to be with the Careers – and what a mistake that was. Most of them were okay, but District 2…I can still see Aloe's cold gaze, hear Dain's cruel laughter. Being a Career wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Sure, I might have survived longer with them…but my true allegiance lies with Artemis.

She and Jenna are still sleeping. Strangely, it's Jenna that my gaze seems to linger on. She's a year younger than Artemis with elfish features and bright green streaks the same colour as her eyes. I'm surprised that her chosen weapon is a sword but I know better than to underestimate her. I feel sorry for Jenna, whose district partner – Donnicon, who is pretty much a non-event – ditched her. I wonder how long Donnicon's going to last. I mean, he's not exactly a fighter.

Reluctantly, I shake Artemis and Jenna awake. We need to find food and water or we're not going to have to worry about being killed by Careers. Artemis grabs her bow and arrow and Jenna sheathes her sword. Then the three of us are leaving the place where we set up camp for the night, because it's not smart to stay in the same place too long in any case.

There isn't much in the way of animals, but Artemis gives the all-clear on a bunch of withered berries that we do manage to find. It's not much in the way of a meal, and we're all concerned they might be poisonous – but considering none of us drop dead, they must be fine.

After the berries, we keep trekking east towards where the acid rain was. Jenna explains that it should be safe there because of the fact that there _was _acid rain, meaning there probably won't be danger in the same place twice. I glance surreptitiously across at Jenna a couple of times while we're walking. She's pretty. It doesn't hurt that she's a nice person…well, as far as I've seen. Plus any friend of Artemis is a friend of mine.

As we move out of the trees, I see a lake and an abandoned campsite. From the size of it, it probably belonged to the Careers. Artemis gives a cry of joy and starts towards the water, but Jenna's eyes widen and she quickly lunges forward and catches her by the arm.

"No, don't!"

Artemis and I both look at her quizzically. Jenna's eyes are burning as she picks up a decent-sized rock and throws it towards the campsite. It hits just next to the ruins and suddenly, there's a roar in my ears – think like a cannon, only ten times worse. The campsite blows out everywhere and that's when I know why the Careers want Donnicon. I'm suddenly nervous at the power of the District 3 boy. I mean, what exactly did he use to rig the place up?

Artemis turns pale and takes a step back as she realizes what would have happened to her if Jenna hadn't stopped her. Jenna squeezes her eyes shut and sighs in relief. She must know exactly what Donnicon is capable of.

"What the hell was that?" I demand. "How could Donnicon rig up a trap in the middle of the arena?"

"The land mines," Jenna replies wearily, "They must have dug them up. The ones around the metal cylinders we come up on, you know? That explode us if we step off the plate before sixty seconds is up?"

I know what she means. They would have been deactivated – but it looks like Donnicon is cleverer than we've given him credit for. Somehow, I doubt that the lake's the only place with landmines. The Careers wouldn't want people getting at their camp…but this must be where the acid rain fell, because everything was destroyed anyway.

"Can Donnicon use weapons?" I ask of Jenna.

She bites her lip and shrugs. "A bow and arrow, maybe. But they've only got him because of his ability to use this stuff. Knowing him, he'll be able to get electricity going, too."

"Using what…?" Artemis begins and then bites her lip. "Oh. Like the power used to move us up to the metal plates. He must have something he uses to conduct it."

My biggest worry is getting to the lake. We haven't had water in a while and I'm getting thirsty just looking at that vast, glittering expanse of it.

"So, how do we get to the lake without being blown up?"

Jenna's eyes narrow and she gnaws at her bottom lip. "Well. It depends if Donnicon's set up the mines on a chain reaction – which would mean they all just blew up, which is unlikely because that wasn't a very big explosion – or individually. I guess…we'll just have to throw rocks until we find a path where there are no mines."

There has to be a path, because otherwise the Careers wouldn't be able to move in and out of their own camp. I exchange a glance with Artemis. Jenna's from District 3, so while she might not know as much as Donnicon about technology, she knows a lot. I reach down and pick up the first rock.

* * *

**Teryn Dazzle – District 7**

A distant boom makes me nearly jump out of my skin. I wonder if it's a cannon, but somehow it sounds…different. Doesn't really matter anyway, because it's a fair distance from where we are. Rocco's eyes widen a little at the sound. He's pretty cute, Rocco…but it's so obvious that he's in love with Angel. I think she knows it, too. She just doesn't want to admit it.

"Damn, I'm hungry." Phoenix complains.

Angel whirls around and glares at him. "You're District 12. Shouldn't you be used to being basically starving?"

That was uncalled for. Phoenix's eyes narrow rebelliously and I don't blame him. Angel can be okay, but sometimes she's a bit of a bitch. Rocco turns and give her a disapproving glance over his shoulder. Clearly he's not happy about her comment either.

"How about you just shut up, Angel?" He demands. "Alright?"

Angel laughs mirthlessly. "What, you think you're the leader, just because you're the oldest? I'll say what I want, Rocco. It's not like it matters anyway."

We all know what she means, but Rocco's not taking her crap. I reckon these two must have known each other quite well before the Hunger Games because of the familiar way they interact. Phoenix stops walking. Rocco advances on Angel, his violet eyes hard.

"Will you just cut the craps?" he spits at her, "All you've been doing is saying negative things. I get that you're tired and afraid, but guess what, princess? The rest of us are, too."

I can tell that Angel doesn't like being challenged. She tilts her chin up defiantly and plants her hands on her hips as she glowers right back at him, tossing back her mahogany hair.

"It's not that. We need to focus, okay? If all Phoenix is going to do is complain about his stomach…"

Phoenix throws her a filthy look. I want to interject and stick up for him, tell Angel that I'm hungry, too. We're all hungry. Just because Phoenix is the only one to say it doesn't mean that he should get his head bitten off.

"Have a heart, will you." Rocco sounds really pissed and for a moment I think he might even hit Angel. "Maybe I should kill you now. At least that way there'll be one less mouth to feed, one less whiner. You're the one who kicks up the biggest stink."

I'm getting tired of their argument, but I'm suddenly frightened when Rocco mentions killing Angel. He might just be exaggerating, but you don't joke about that sort of thing in the Hunger Games. My wide eyes dart between them and for some reason, Phoenix is standing there with his arms folded and a smirk across his face.

"You wouldn't kill me," Angel replies confidently.

Rocco raises his eyebrows disbelievingly. "Oh, really? Why is that?"

The next thing I know, Angel steps forward and grabs Rocco's face in her hands and then she's kissing him fiercely – and he drops his knife and wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her back. They stand there for at least a good minute making out. I'm a little confused. Umm, okay. One moment they're bickering and the next they're passionately kissing each other?

Phoenix chuckles and rolls his eyes as he steps past them. "I'd tell you lovebirds to get a room, but I don't think that's really going to work."

It's only when I see Rocco's knife on the ground that I go cold. He hadn't drawn it before he and Angel had started arguing. This means that he was actually serious about killing her – but somehow, I don't think it's violent. Angel told us how she scarred Dain…and everyone knows how psychotic the boy from District 2 is. I think if Rocco kills Angel, it's to spare her from the sort of horrific death the rest of us can't even imagine…a death at the hands of Dain Winters.

It's in that moment that I realize just how much Rocco really is in love with Angel. That he would kill her to save her…well, it's complicated, but it just proves how far he's willing to go. He'd probably kill himself for her if that would achieve something. If it ends up with just the two of them in the Games, I don't doubt for a second that that is what he would do.

Only…what about Angel? Does she love Rocco with the same fierce intensity that he loves her? She's a little harder to read. I think she does care about him, but she's just afraid to. After all, one of them is going to die, if not both. She doesn't want to get attached because in the end, it will only break her heart. So if that's the case, why is she kissing Rocco now?

The answer comes in the form of a silver parachute that whacks Rocco on the top of the head and causes him to break apart from Angel and rub the back of his skull ruefully. He opens the gift and inside there is a small pot of broth. Food. His lips twist into a smile and he holds it out for all of us to see. This is good because despite the fact that he and Angel are from the hunting district, there isn't exactly much to hunt for right now.

"Ha! Hell yeah. We've got some food."

Angel smiles knowingly. I think she and Rocco both know that their little romance is getting them sponsors. The only thing is, does the Capitol see them as just another pair of "star-crossed lovers", or does the crowd see through the superficiality of it and realize that these two genuinely love each other?

* * *

**Aloe Templare – District 2**

The trees are thick here. They shelter us from the prying eyes of other tributes – not that it matters, because Donnicon's set up several traps with the last of the landmines he managed to get from around the Cornucopia. He's also got this funny little gadget that he says stores electricity, and plenty of wire for snares.

"Aloe?"

It's Jordan. They've all stopped, but I'm the only one still walking – and now I can tell why. There are voices – a boy's and a girl's. I see Dain smile sadistically and reach for his sword, his eyes practically glowing. He's probably hoping that it's District 9, but somehow I don't think so. District 9 is the hunters. They wouldn't be making this much racket. It's almost as if these people think they're alone in the wilderness.

"Kenton, I seriously think we should have gone the other way." The girl sounds wary. As well she should be. Now I know that the boy is Kenton from District 10. But who's the girl with him? It can't be his partner, because Dain killed her during the bloodbath.

"It's fine, Mist." Mist – she's from District 12, if memory serves correctly. I pull my knife from my belt and head slowly down towards where I can hear Mist and Kenton. Donnicon's eyes widen and he shakes his head fervently for reasons I can't understand.

"Aloe!" he hisses, "Get back here!"

What, he thinks a lone Career can't take on two tributes alone? I'll show him. I turn and grin at Dain, before I move stealthily towards the pair of them. They're so unsuspecting. They might as well light a flare or something.

"Take my hand, Mist."

Oh jeez, don't tell me they're getting started on the whole romantic crap. The Hunger Games isn't the place for that. Yeah, I might have kissed Praetor…but that was different. I roll my eyes and mime throwing up, while Cassie presses a hand over her mouth to stifle laughter. Donnicon is still shaking his head. What a moron. Just because he couldn't even take on a twelve-year-old. Well, there aren't any twelve-year-olds, but you know.

"Please, can we just go back…?"

Like Donnicon, Mist doesn't seem to think this is such a good idea. Maybe she knows that we're here, but she doesn't want to say so aloud to Kenton just in case we attack. I take another few steps forward, raising my knife ever so slightly…

Everything seems to explode. The noise is deafening. I'm thrown backwards as the ground shakes beneath my feet, and I land heavily a few metres back. For a moment, I panic as I realize that I'm covered with blood and gore…until it suddenly makes sense as two cannons go off, one after the other.

Donnicon was trying to warn me away because he knew that one of his landmines was set up down there. Mist must have known something was wrong…yet despite that, she and Kenton walked right in there and were blow into fleshy pieces. I'm grossed out by the fact that I've got parts of other people all over me, but I'm not the only one. Despite standing a good few metres back, the rest of the Careers are getting to their feet with blood smeared all over them.

"We sooo need to wash up by the lake." Cassie whines, examining her arms with disgust. "I'm covered in bits of Mist and Kenton."

I feel exactly the same way she does, but I'm not complaining in front of the others. Falcon rolls his eyes at her comment. I just know now that Donnicon's traps work. I admit, I've doubted his abilities to rig up the landmines. I've whinged to Dain before how I don't think he's of any use to us. Except now…he's just proven that he doesn't need a weapon to defeat other tributes.

"Well done, Don." Dain comes and claps him on the back. Falcon joins in and even Jordan looks impressed.

"Nine down, fifteen to go." Cassie seems like she's counting down. She turns to look at Jordan. "Who are we going after next?"

Jordan shrugs. "Well, I reckon a few more tributes are going to be taken down by Donnicon's traps. As for the rest of them? We do what Careers do best. We watch. We hunt. We kill." He looks a little nervously at Dain. "So, which way are we going?"

I know that Dain wishes it could have been Tea that was taken down by Donnicon's landmine. Heck, I wish it was too. How dare she just…desert us? I thought that we were starting to get along and everything, and then she goes and does that. I even trusted her enough to tell her that I kissed Praetor. If Angel is Dain's for the killing, then Tea's mine.

"How much food have we got?" Falcon pipes up.

Cassie checks on the wolf meat. There's a little bit left, along with a small amount of water in the bottle she received. Somehow I get the impression Cassie's going to do surprisingly well in these Games. She's already got two gifts from sponsors. I'm a little jealous of her, because I haven't got any.

"A little. Enough for tonight…maybe tomorrow morning, but I don't know for sure."

We've still got all afternoon ahead of us. Let's hunt down some tributes. Because right now, Dain's not the only one who's hungry for action. It's Day 4 and there hasn't really been a confrontation yet. We're bored and what's more, we're Careers.

* * *

**Phoenix Desoleil – District 12**

It's getting close to nightfall. More sounds like cannons earlier, but I'm not sure if that's what it was. I trudge along behind Rocco, Angel and Teryn. All I want right now is to rest. By the way the others are dragging their feet, I'm guessing that they feel the same. Angel has absolutely refused to let any of us have broth until we stop for the night. I guess that's fair enough. I mean, it's saving food. But if we keep walking on and on like this, we're going to die of exhaustion anyway.

Rocco turns around to see how I'm coping, but then his eyes widen and he's fumbling for an arrow from his quiver. I whirl around and curse as I see tributes charging through the trees towards us – and there's a big group of them. I know that it's the Careers. I can hear their laughter, their triumphant cries as they think they've finally found prey.

A throwing knife spins towards me, thrown by the dark-haired girl. I wheel to the side, but it still manages to slice into my arm. I bellow in pain as blood starts to gush from the deep wound, but I force myself to ignore it. There are other things I have to worry about – like the Careers.

"Run!" Rocco shouts as he stretches his bow taut and releases the arrow. He's a hunter and his aim is deadly. The arrow bites into the neck of the smallest girl, the dark-haired one. She falls down with a cry and doesn't get up again…but there's no time to see if she's actually dead or not, because although one boy – her district partner, probably – has stopped to check on her, the rest of the Careers are still charging towards us.

Rocco and I turn and run as fast as we can. I know for sure that the girl Rocco shot is dead when I hear the boom of the cannon. At first I'm gripping at my injured arm but then I realize that it's only slowing me down. I don't know how long we run, but the Careers are relentless. After some time, one of them – the blonde girl – barks something and they slow to a halt. Just in case it's a trick, we all keep running, but then Angel whirls around and starts waving her arms at us, shaking her head vigorously.

"They've got snares up ahead!"

So now I get why they need the District 3 boy. He's the one who sets up the traps. I wonder exactly how many places in the arena have been rigged by the Careers. We turn, our breaths ragged, and start running in a different direction. I'm not sure if the Careers think we've been caught in the snares, but we hear their shouts a little way behind us as they go to check. One of the boys, probably the District 2 one, swears loudly.

We're already tired out from walking all day, but by the time we stop at nightfall, we're all practically dead on our feet. Angel shares around the broth, which gives me a bit more energy. It's amazing that we managed to fell a Career when none of us was killed. I'm guessing none of them are archers.

"Water?" I rasp, glancing towards Teryn. She shakes her water bottle and then opens it and holds it upside down for us all to see. It's empty. I curse quietly under my breath. We're going to need to find another water source soon. Teryn's got the bottle. I have the purifier, my first and so far only gift from a sponsor. Now all we need is water.

We all go quiet when night falls and the anthem starts to play. The Capitol seal shows and then the girl from District 1 – God, she looks so young. She was probably the youngest of the Careers. Then comes the guy from District 10, the one who stood up to the Careers that time in training. Then the girl from District 12. After that, it's the Capitol seal again. Three deaths today. That makes it ten in all.

I try and think which of the tributes are still alive. All of the Careers, with the exception of the District 1 girl…Cassie, I think. Both from District 3. Both from District 5. Teryn, Rocco and Angel – from 7 and 9 – are with me. Then there's me. I count them up on my fingers…that's only thirteen. I'm not sure who the last person is.

"How long do you think we're going to last?" Teryn whispers through the darkness. I glance across at her. There's an almost frightened look on her face. I think seeing Cassie die scared her a little. I don't reply, because I honestly don't know the answer.

I glance across at Angel and Rocco. I know I often tease them, but in truth…seeing them makes me feel lonely. I'm not really interested in Teryn in that way. Right now, Rocco is lying down on his back and Angel's curled up right next to him, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. He's got one arm draped almost carelessly around her waist, as if he's protecting her. This relationship is only going to break them. Don't they see that? It gets them sponsors, yeah…but is it worth it in the end?

"I want to see home again." Teryn sounds desperate. Then she turns to look sharply at me. "If the time comes…would you kill me just to go home?"

District 12 hasn't had a victor since Cairo Mellark. Home's bleak, but it's all I know. I don't want to give that up and if it means killing Teryn, so be it.

"Yes."


	15. Career Ambush

**CAREER AMBUSH**

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**A/N: You guys are awesome! Let's see if we can hit 100 reviews with this chapter! I know it must be tedious going over the same story pretty much with only minor changes, but trust me, once we hit the finale, everything is going to change.**

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**Donnicon Wayland – District 3**

Dawn of Day 5. Cassie's death has upset Aloe. She's constantly swearing revenge on Rocco. I can tell that it's shaken Jordan as well, but Dain doesn't seem to care. To him, it's just another tribute dead. He's just one step closer to winning. Me? Well, I care more about the fact that my traps actually work. I managed to use the landmines to kill two tributes. Probably more, soon.

Aloe swallows hard as she picks up Cassie's throwing knives and stows them amongst her own belongings. Jordan mutters some consolation, but Dain is completely ruthless. He storms over to where the two of them are, backed by Falcon.

"Stop your moping," he tells Aloe, his voice hard as marble, "Cassie's dead. Get over it. She's just the first."

Aloe's eyes flare and she gets to her feet and confronts Dain like no one else has the guts to do. She folds her arms across her chest.

"Cassie was a good kid," she snaps at him, "I'm allowed to feel something that she died. Because you see, unlike you, I'm not heartless."

Dain just shrugs non-chalantly. "A dead tribute is a dead tribute. Shouldn't you be glad, Aloe? It's one step closer to winning. Besides, she was the only other person apart from Tea who knew your dirty little secret about eating face with Praetor Lawson."

Aloe snarls like a feral animal and lashes out, her hand curling into a fist as she punches Dain in the face. There must be a lot of force behind the blow because Dain, easily over six feet, rocks back and presses a hand to the place where she struck. His eyes glimmer with incensed fury.

He moves fast, so fast that it's like a second later, he has Aloe by the throat and lifts with one powerful arm, so that her toes are kicking about a foot off the ground. She grips his wrist and tries to alleviate his grasp, choking for air. Not that I really care. I don't like Aloe much. She's always been a bitch to me.

"You better watch yourself, Templare." Dain's voice is lethally quiet as Aloe grimaces. I wonder if he's going to kill her. I wouldn't stop him – but apparently, the others don't feel the same. Jordan takes a step forward and places a hand on Dain's shoulder.

"Come on, man. Let her go. We don't need to be fighting amongst ourselves."

For a moment I think Dain's going to ignore him and choke Aloe to death. Then he releases her and she slumps to the ground, gasping for air. I can't quite bite back a smile. I've never seen her looking quite this pathetic.

Jordan looks relieved, but when Aloe gets to her feet, only I hear what Dain whispers in her ear when he grabs her by the arm in a bruising grip.

"You got lucky this time. But Jordan's not going to be around to save your ass forever."

He lets her go and she staggers. I have to try not to snicker. Aloe catches me, however, and gives me a death glare.

"What are you laughing about, District 3?" she spits. "Be careful. Because I'd knife you in the night and there wouldn't be a thing you could do to stop me."

She's right, of course. I bite back a retort – what's on my mind is, for some reason, 'Come at me, bro' – because I know that even in broad daylight if Aloe decided she wanted to kill me, I'd stand no chance. She's stronger than me, and a better fighter. So instead I decide it's probably safest to say nothing. However, I find satisfaction in the fact that bruise marks are forming around Aloe's throat in the form of Dain's fingers. There's also a red mark on Dain's cheek where Aloe slapped him, to go with the nice scar across the other side of his face from Angel. I wouldn't be at all surprised if one of them ended up killing the other.

"I nearly had her," Dain vents and at first I'm not sure whether he's talking about Aloe or Angel. "If only we hadn't stopped to check those freaking snares."

Aloe rolls her eyes. "Wow, you don't sound obsessed at all, Dain. Are you going to ask her to marry you?"

Dain whirls around with his teeth bared. "Shut the fuck up, Aloe. Or I _will _kill you. You know as well as anyone else that I want her to suffer because of what she did to my face."

I expect Aloe to make some snarky comment about how Dain shouldn't care so much about his appearance, but she clearly knows when enough is enough, because she averts her eyes and actually keeps quiet for once. However, I don't fail to notice that she is gripping her knife so tightly in her hand that her knuckles have gone white.

"Okay. I have an idea." Falcon leans in and speaks in a conspiring tone. "Here's what we're going to do…"

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**Artemis Palein – District 5**

The first of the Careers has been killed. I'm torn between whether I should feel good about this or not. It means one less enemy, for sure...but Cassie was fourteen years old. I wonder who killed her. Apollo, Jenna and I sit near the lake. We've stocked up on water and quenched our thirst, but I'm still troubled. It mainly has to do with the landmines. If Jenna hadn't stopped me, I would have been blown to pieces. I know we're in an alliance, but why did she do that? It would have been one less tribute, and she never would have needed to reveal that she knew about Donnicon's landmines. I guess it's because, despite the fact that only one can survive, Jenna and I have become friends.

I've also noticed the relationship blooming between Jenna and Apollo. They flirt with each other sometimes, but only subtly, because they obviously don't want me to know that they like one another. Jenna has admitted to me that she thinks Apollo is hot, and Apollo has admitted that he likes Jenna...only what's frustrating is that they don't do anything about it. I mean, seriously. We have days to live...maybe less. Why don't they just make it easier for themselves?

Things have been pretty quiet lately. Despite the fact that yesterday there were three deaths, today has been a welcome respite. We haven't been confronted by the Careers, or any of the other tributes. So far. I know that it's only a matter of time.

I'm thinking a lot lately about who's most likely to survive. The boy from District 9 stands a good chance, what with his eleven and everything. The Careers – well, they're a given. Then there's Jenna. She and Apollo will probably live a while. Unlike me. I'm pretty much scared of everything. Apollo had to shut me up earlier because a spider crawled onto me and I just about screamed, which would have alerted all the tributes to our location.

"Artemis?" Jenna's looking across at me. Within the past few minutes, the temperature must have dropped ten degrees. Her teeth are chattering and she's pulled her jacket around her tightly. I glance at Apollo. He feels the cold, too. That's when I know this isn't something ordinary.

"Wow. The Gamemakers must have decided we're cruising, huh." Jenna's tone is dry and sarcastic. Something cold hits me on the nose and I give a sharp gasp of surprise and look up. Oh my God. It's snowing. Normally I'd find this to be awesome, because in District 5 it doesn't really snow much, but right now this is no cause for celebration. Our jackets are the warmest things we have. We're going to freeze to death. A sudden idea strikes me.

"Come on!" I beckon to Apollo and Jenna, who exchange bewildered glances before following me as I spin around in aimless circles, searching for the best tree I can. When I've found a good one, I start climbing, closely followed by Jenna. Apollo's hesitating on the ground.

"Apollo, get up. Hot air rises, remember? You know that. So get up the damn tree, or you're going to freeze to death!"

The snow's falling thicker and faster now. Apollo sucks at climbing and Jenna and I have to help him over a few rough patches. He nearly slips several times, but we finally huddle in the fork of a thick branch. I stuff my numb fingers into my armpits – the warmest place in my body, and pull up the hood of my jacket around my face, trying to expose as little of myself as possible. Apollo and Jenna copy my move. I don't fail to notice that Jenna's got a supporting arm around Apollo's waist, keeping him from falling out of the tree.

"W-w-we're going to d-die," I whisper, shivering violently and huddling as close as I can to the other two. Jenna shakes her head fervently.

"N-no we're n-n-not," she replies, her teeth chattering.

I'm not sure how long we're there in the tree while the freezing snow pelts down on us and we try and keep ourselves as unexposed as possible. I keep thinking that we're going to die up there. I'm not sure whether this is happening all over the arena, or just to us.

"Artemis," Jenna's voice is getting really faint now. "H-hold my hand. I'm so cold."

I grip her hands in mine and shift closer. She's leaning against Apollo's shoulder as he holds her close. They're both shivering just as much as me. My face is cold. The tip of my nose has gone numb and I can't feel my toes. Then the snow starts to slow and eventually, it stops. We just wait there in the tree for a few moments, hardly daring to believe that we've survived. Then I smile and start to climb down. Jenna helps Apollo down.

"We're alive." I can hear the wonder in my own voice – because for a while back there, I really thought the three of us were going to freeze to death...but that would have been no good for the Capitol. They want us killed by fellow tributes. They want blood. I can almost hear the consistent 'kill, kill, kill'.

"My hands." Jenna makes a sobbing noise and I whip around, my heart sinking in my chest as I crunch over towards her, holding out my hands.

"Give me your hands, Jenna." She hesitates, so I'm a little more firm. "Give me your hands!"

Jenna places her hands in mine, squeezing her eyes shut and looking away. I stare down at her fingers in utter disbelief. Her thumb and first two fingers are completely black-blue. I muffle a gasp of shock. Jenna finally looks back at me and there's despair in her eyes.

"It's not that bad, right?" She asks without any real conviction. "I mean, they can be fixed."

I shake my head slowly. "Jenna, you've got frostbite. They might be able to fix these back at the Capitol, but we're in the arena. There's only one thing I can do for you. And I'm sorry, I really am."

Jenna glances across at Apollo and then back at me.

"What?"

I close my eyes and feel the cold tears tracking down my cheeks.

"Jenna, we're going to have to amputate your fingers."

* * *

**Rocco Harkens – District 9**

"Will you stop _squirming_?" Angel snaps at Phoenix. Because of the nasty cut he'd got, Angel ripped one of the sleeves off her shirt and wrapped it around his arm to stop the flow of blood. Only today, she pulled the makeshift bandage off to clean off the dry blood – and clearly, it's still stinging, because Phoenix is grimacing something terrible.

Teryn clambers to her feet, rolling her eyes. "I'm going to go and see if I can find us something to eat now that the broth's run out."

That always seems to be the problem. Not enough food, not enough water. Hell, at the rate we're going, we'll be dead before the other tributes ever find us. Phoenix sits completely still as Angel re-bandages his arm. There's complete silence for a few moments.

"There." Angel nods in satisfaction. "It's going to take a few days to heal..."

"I might not even be alive in a few days," Phoenix reminds her bluntly, "So I doubt it would really matter very much. But...thanks anyway."

She smiles at him. Of course, Angel's got one of those radiant smiles that are just contagious...so of course Phoenix smiles back. I feel a surge of jealousy and I fold my arms and open my mouth to say something – just as a piercing scream resonates around us. I know immediately who it is by how close by it is.

"Teryn!" Phoenix shouts, jumping to his feet. He grabs the throwing knife that sliced into his arm. Angel's already running with her sword in her hand and I quickly fit an arrow to my bow and follow them. What we see when we race towards Teryn is horrific.

Teryn's on the ground, screaming and pleading. Dain stands over her with an insane smile and his sword – holy shit...he's pushing his sword into her thigh. I know what this means. Even if the Careers don't get to kill Teryn, she won't be able to run very far. She's gone either way. Teryn's frame is wracked with sobs and she's pressing her face into her hands as if she can't bear to see the torture Dain is inflicting upon her.

The other Careers are standing around roaring with laughter like this is hilarious. I'm suddenly struck by the absence of the District 4 girl, Tea. I haven't heard any cannons go off, but she might be so far away that we couldn't hear it anyway.

"Stop it!" Angel shrieks, charging towards the Careers. Her eyes are flashing with fury and Dain looks up to see her coming and plunges his sword into Teryn's heart. She stops screaming then. She stops moving at all. Jordan steps forward to confront Angel, raising his spear – but he's too slow. Angel's best when she's angry. She chops downwards with her sword and suddenly, Jordan's head separates from his neck and hits the ground.

The other Careers just stop and stare for a moment, as if they can't believe that this girl from District 9 has managed to best one of them. Angel takes that opportunity to turn back towards us, her eyes shining and her sword dripping with Jordan's blood.

"Let's go!"

Even with Jordan dead, we're still outnumbered...because we've just lost Teryn. I whirl around and follow Angel and after cursing loudly, so does Phoenix. I'm not sure if the Careers are following us or not, because I'm too busy running to bother turning around and finding out. How many goddamn times are we going to have to run from these people? When we finally stop, Angel and I slump down on the ground, but Phoenix remains standing. He's pacing and there's something alight in his eyes.

I glance across at Angel. She's cleaning the blood off her sword and I can tell that she's shaken up. As far as I know, Jordan is the first person she's killed in the arena. She starts breathing in, short and sharp, and presses shaking hands to her face. I'm not sure what's upset her – Teryn's death, or killing Jordan.

"I'm out." Phoenix shakes his head slowly. "You guys have killed two Careers. You're the ones they're going to be hunting down." He laughs nervously. "I don't want to be in the way like Teryn was."

I half expect Angel to say something, but she's sitting there in shock, not really paying attention to anything. She's going to have nightmares about decapitation, I bet. Phoenix shrugs and grabs his stuff. Amongst his stuff is the purifier. I don't try and stop him as he leaves, but I'm left to wonder. How long's Phoenix going to last? His arm is injured. He has a purifier, but no water bottle. I think of camping down by the lake, but that's suicide. All the tributes will go down there for water eventually.

"Angel?" I crouch down in front of her, trying to get a response. "Angel, please don't do this. Don't shut down now. Everyone's killing people, alright? You're not the only one."

"You didn't slice off someone's head," she whispers, and then shakes her head like she's trying to rid herself of the terrible thoughts. "I'm sorry. You're right, Rocco. I'm being such a wimp. I'll snap out of it."

With Teryn dead and Phoenix gone, I'm acutely aware that it's just the two of us. I don't want to show Angel that she means the world to me. The only problem is, the truth has irritating ways of getting out despite what I want. She's already kissed me and I'm starting to think...maybe Angel does love me back.

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**Dain Winters – District 2**

By the time night falls, I watch the sky along with the other Careers –well, what's left of us. It's only Aloe, Donnicon, Falcon and I now. Only two deaths today – Jordan and that girl from District 7. I have to admit that I was unprepared when Angel suddenly hacked off Jordan's head. Now I know the girl's deadly. Her training score might not have been as impressive as her district partner's, but I think she's the one we need to watch out for. Jordan's not a big hassle. I know that Aloe thought he was a nice guy, but I personally thought he was too soft.

"Twelve down, eleven to go," I mutter to myself. Falcon's clearly not the brightest because he said 'twelve down, twelve to go' meaning he obviously doesn't count the victor. Things are going far too slowly, in my opinion. I need more action, more blood, more screaming. We're only averaging around two tributes a day. Things are getting pretty boring.

"Here we go." Donnicon dumps down a pair of rabbits and sits back with a smug smile as he cleans off the arrow and sticks them back into his quiver.

Aloe smirks. "Wow, Donnicon. I didn't even know you could use a bow let alone kill something with it."

Donnicon ignores her. Aloe is being very frustrating. If she's still alive by the time we get to the final eight, I'll kill her myself. Jordan thought I was going to the other day when I choked her – but I was only teaching her a lesson. I was making sure that fear gave way to respect.

We're preparing for tomorrow – preparing to kill. Aloe is spinning her dagger and Cassie's remaining two throwing knives. Donnicon busies himself setting up the rabbit over the campfire and then gets to work tightening the string on his bow. Falcon's sharpening his axe. I glance around at the other Careers and feel a surge of pride. We're not just kids thrown into the arena. We're the killers. We're the ones everyone fears the most. Out of the twelve dead tributes, I've killed a quarter of them. This gives me reason to gloat.

We can afford to have a campfire because even though there are only four of us now, we're still the Careers. Besides, we're not hunting tonight. We already chased some tributes today and I'm not in the mood for doing it now, not with Jordan gone. Everyone else is too well hidden at night in any case. I was hoping some idiot might start a fire – that happened a couple of years back and three tributes were killed, it was awesome – but it looks like this year's lot are a cleverer bunch.

A small silver parachute glints in the firelight before it lands in my lap. I'm a bit shocked because this is my first gift from a sponsor. Then I'm pulling apart the package and roaring with laughter. This has got to the best. Donnicon, Aloe and Falcon look across at me, puzzled.

"What is it?" Aloe demands, snatching the small bottle from my grasp. Her eyes widen. "Belladonna..."

I'm still laughing. All I have to do is wipe some of this stuff on the blade of my sword and I've got the perfect weapon of torture. Belladonna is known to induce immense pain and hallucinations. I don't even have to hack into someone. Just a few tiny cuts, one by one...this is just too good.

"Calm down," Aloe mutters, although her eyes are sparkling with something like apprehension as she shoves the bottle of belladonna back at me, "You're like a little kid who's been told Christmas is coming early."

I just wave the bottle tauntingly in her face, my smile saying everything that words don't: _watch out, Aloe, because I might just use this on you._ She huffs in jealousy and goes back to eating her share of the rabbit. Donnicon looks amused and I saw him bite back a smile. If I could have chosen the other three Careers I would have wanted to live, it would be these three – even if Donnicon's not a proper Career. Aloe might piss me off, but she's tough. Falcon follows my lead like a puppy. Donnicon...well we need him because of his intelligence. He's a better ally than an enemy.

"You going to share?" Aloe asks a few minutes later. "Or do the rest of us just have to slice and dice?"

I shrug. It's not Aloe's place to question me. She's just pissed because she hasn't got a gift from any sponsors yet. Well, maybe she needs to lift her game. The crowd likes savage killing. Otherwise, why would the Hunger Games even exist?

"We'll see."

I'm going to use this belladonna on Angel, that's for sure. It's a pity that she had to slice my face and be so damn defiant, because she would have made a good Career. She's actually pretty hot, too. But then she had to go and be a bitch, and it's too late for her now, because I hate her. Even more than I hate Rocco, with his freaking eleven. I mean, seriously. Who gets an _eleven_?

All of the young kids are dead. In fact, I think most of them have been dead for days. Big surprise – not. Some years, you'll have twelve and thirteen-year-olds survive until the final eight, but it's rare. There was even a thirteen-year-old victor once. More often than not, the victor's someone over the age of fifteen. The little kids...they just can't survive. Especially not with people like me in the arena...because I wouldn't let them.


	16. Two Become Three

**TWO BECOME THREE**

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**A/N: 100 reviews! Wow, you guys are awesome. Hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

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**Tea Ryan – District 4**

Jordan and Cassie are dead. Wow, this means only four of the Careers are left now. I've been surviving by trips down the lake to go fishing. I'm careful though. I managed to get some net from a sponsor. Only gift I've got so far, but it's getting me food, so I'm not exactly complaining. It's Day 6 in the arena and I'm still not dead yet. I fight back a wave of tiredness as I cross the ruins of our former campsite, back when I was a Career a few days ago, and wade out into the water. It's the most ridiculously beautiful feeling. I love the water.

I've hiked up my pants to the knees and I use my net to trap a few fish. They're only small and they taste pretty sour, but hey, it's better than nothing at all. The lake's easy to access now because someone's blown all of the landmines that Donnicon set up. I wonder if it was a couple of tributes too eager to get to the lake. It's not really any of my concern. I'm just glad because it means it takes less time for me to get down here.

A stealthy noise in bushes makes me fling my net onto the sand and whip out my bow and an arrow. I stretch the weapon taught as a dark-haired boy walks calmly from the trees with his hands raised in surrender. He's too far away from me for me to see his face clearly. I think about who's alive and immediately rule off all the blondes. It's definitely not Dain or Donnicon, because they would have killed me. So I'm left puzzled.

"Hey, don't shoot."

He comes closer and I recognize him as the boy from District 6 – damn, I can't think what his name is. Some kind of animal or something. But he's not attacking me so he obviously doesn't mean me harm. I haven't seen him since the bloodbath. He must have been staying in hiding. So why is he revealing himself to me now.

"I'm Wolf, from District 6. I saw you come down yesterday and catch some fish."

My eyes narrow and I only stretch my bow out tighter. He's been watching me come down here? But…the other day I decided I was alone and took my shirt off, only swimming in my underwear…my cheeks flame red and suddenly I'm angry and embarrassed.

"You've been _watching_ me?"

"I would have killed you, but…I wanted to form an alliance."

I raise my eyebrows. I can see that this boy wants my fish. But what exactly can I gain from him? Then I get it. Wolf has survived until Day 6 because he's been busy hiding. I bet I must slosh around something terrible down here. If Wolf has seen me, how long until another tribute does? Perhaps Wolf can teach me to hide.

"I guess you want fish, huh."

I lower my bow and stow both it and the arrow in my quiver as a sign of my goodwill. There's a knife strapped to his belt, but he makes no attempt to reach for it. In fact, his smile just broadens as he moves closer and I yank up my net.

"That would be nice."

I sigh and roll my eyes, reaching into the net and pulling out a fish and throwing it at him. There's a slapping sound as he catches it and grins. He looks pretty thin. I'm guessing he hasn't eaten for a while. This alliance could work.

"So." I plant my hands on my hips and raise my eyebrows at Wolf. "You get fish from me…but what do I get from you?"

Wolf shrugs. "I can teach you how to hide. Hey, they haven't got me yet, and I'm no fighter. So how about it, Tea?"

"It's pronounced TAY-UH," I correct him. I'm sick of people saying it like TEE-UH. Wolf just grins and shakes his head slowly. I don't get what he's so happy about. The only reason I'm forming an alliance with him is because otherwise when the Careers come for me, I'm on my own. Wolf seems to be thinking along the same line.

"You're District 4, huh. So why aren't you with the Careers?"

I glower. "Personal reasons. The most obvious of which is that Dain is a psychopath."

Wolf chuckles. "Oh, you mean District 2. They're always nuts. What do you expect? They're the warriors. It's practically _required _that they're at least a little insane."

Dain is more than just 'a little insane', but I decide it's best not to mention this. Instead I just heft my net over my shoulder and start towards the trees, closely followed by Wolf. I jerk my chin towards the knife at his hip.

"You know how to use that?"

Wolf snorts. "I just lunge forward and stab. It can't be that hard."

"Mmm." I press my lips together in a smirk. "It could be harder than you think."

* * *

**Jenna Camyrielle – District 3**

I look down at my left hand and at the two fingers I have left there. Tears well in my eyes, but I remind myself not to be stupid, not to think about it. I don't blame Apollo for doing what he did. The blackened digits that were once fingers had to be removed – and despite my crying and pleading, Apollo had grimly accomplished the deed that Artemis and I had been too afraid to.

Night's nearly fallen. Apollo and Artemis have gone hunting. I would have joined them…but because of my stupid hand I can't use a sword anymore let alone a bow and arrow. I feel so defenseless and I'm pretty sure my chances of survival are practically zero. When the anthem plays and the Capitol seal shows up, no faces follow it. No deaths today. I'm not sure whether I should be relieved or not about that.

"Jenna."

It's Apollo. He's back alone and I wonder where Artemis is. He jerks a thumb behind him in explanation as he comes to sit down beside me.

"Apparently I was crashing around and being 'too loud', so Artemis said I should come back and make sure you're okay. Are you okay?"

I shrug and lean back the tree, looking up at the stars. Are they real, or are they as fake as the rest of this arena? I sigh heavily and examine the ruins of my left hand. A guilty expression comes over Apollo's face and he scratches at his head.

"Look, Jenna…I'm really sorry about your hand. I wish I'd had another option…"

I press a finger to his lips, shutting him up.

"I don't blame you. You did what you had to. Thanks."

Apollo smiles and leans towards me as if he wants to say something…and then his lips are on mine and we're kissing. It seems the wrong sort of thing to do in the arena, but I know the crowd will enjoy it. They seem to enjoy the idea of tributes having feelings for each other, sick people that they are. So I wrap my good arm around Apollo's neck and kiss him back and for just a few moments, it's like it's just the two of us. Then a crunching of leaves snaps us back to reality and I release him and pull away. My cheeks are flaming hot now. I am so glad that he can't see in the darkness. I bet I've gone beetroot red.

"I am going to pretend that I didn't see the two of you making out." It's Artemis and she sounds amused. However, she has returned without any food and immediately makes us solemn. My stomach rumbles in complaint.

"Shut up." Apollo says automatically, making Artemis and I laugh.

"So. No food."

I'm not keen on the idea of going hungry another night, but it looks like we don't have much choice. I know I'm at least five kilos lighter than I was when I entered the arena…and I was pretty thin to start with. Artemis shrugs uncomfortably.

"It's like the place has been picked clean. No berries, no animals…someone must have been through here before us. Probably Careers."

A bird caws loudly and perches on a nearby branch. I tilt my head to the side and give Artemis a meaningful glance. Food is food. I'm not exactly sure how good crow tastes, but I'm so hungry I don't care anymore. Artemis watches the bird quietly for a few moments – and then it swoops down from the trees, its talons raking through her hair and across her face. She stumbles backwards and falls heavily.

"Arggh! What the hell?"

That's when I realize there are more of them. One by one, the crows flutter down into the branches, beady eyes focused on us…except there's something horribly wrong. Their eyes aren't black. Instead, they're an intense, bloody red.

"Mutts." I whisper.

Artemis clambers slowly to her feet, being careful not to make any sudden moves. Her head turns slowly so that she gets a 360 degree view of the birds. Her eyes widen and she licks her lips nervously, but doesn't turn to face Apollo and me.

"I count twenty-three."

"I say let's move," Apollo hisses, "Artemis, they're mutts. If we don't get out of here, they're going to attack us."

I don't know about this. They seem to be waiting for something. For a few moments, the three of us just watch the mutts in the trees. More of them swoop down to join them. I don't want to stay here. The longer we wait, the more mutts there are. Then Apollo steps back and a twig snaps under his boot. He only has time to curse before all hell breaks loose.

The mutts go berserk. They're swooping down on us, clawing, scratching. I scream and throw my arms over my face to protect my eyes. Artemis whips an arrow from her quiver and fires blind. The arrow whizzes through the mass of black and I'm not sure whether it's hit a bird or not. Then the birds are upon her and the bow falls from her bloody fingers. She lunges for it, but Apollo grabs her around the waist and drags her back.

"Leave it! Just run! Run!"

Then we are. We're running for our lives, our breaths ragged, ignoring the pain as the birds claw at our heads or our backs. All we can think about is moving. Why do the Gamemakers practically target us? Is it because we haven't confronted any other tributes yet? Is it because they want to finish us? I'm eventually aware that the bombardment of mutts has stopped, but I don't stop running until Apollo and Artemis do. We all sit down, breathing raggedly. Artemis presses her face into her hands, fingers bearing bloody scratches.

"My bow…"

But my attention isn't focused on Artemis's loss of her bow. The temperature isn't exactly warm, but I had noticed that Artemis is shivering violently. Her lips and face have lost some colour and that was my first indication that she was sick. She sniffs and wipes at her nose and I exchange a concerned glance with Apollo.

"Artemis…are you feeling alright?"

She just shrugs miserably. "I think I'm coming down with a cold. It must be because of that stupid snow."

Somehow, I think it's more than just a cold. Just as my fingers were frostbitten, I think that Artemis's getting sick is more severe than we think. But for now, we can only wait and see.

* * *

**Falcon Martins – District 4**

"GET THE HELL OFF ME!"

There is the sound of a sharp slap, followed by a grunt of pain. I jerk away, knowing that it's Aloe who cried out. I reach for my torch, clicking it on in a panic…and I'm surprised. Because it's not another tribute attacking Aloe. Donnicon ruefully rubs at his cheek, red with humiliation. Aloe is now on her feet, breathing heavily with her knife in her hand.

"I should gut you right here and now, District 3," she hisses at him.

"Did he try and kill you?" Dain asks, yawning as if in boredom.

Aloe scoffs. "No. He's not stupid enough to try that. He did, however, think that he was going to cop a cheap feel in the dark."

Donnicon looks angry and derisive at being rebuffed. I know he thinks Aloe is a bitch…but now he's trying to feel her up when everyone's asleep? What kind of wacko is this guy? Aloe is still gripping her knife tight, looking like she really is going to kill Donnicon.

"Don't over-dramatize it," Donnicon snaps at her, "It wasn't like I was trying to _rape_ you or anything, jeez…"

"You should know better than to try and get your hands up Aloe's shirt," Dain reprimands and then chuckles, "There's probably not much there anyway."

"Shut the fuck up, you sick freak," Aloe snarls at him, the look on her face becoming very ugly indeed. Now she looks like she wants to kill Dain, too. Instead she sits down and glares at everyone. She doesn't want to be in this alliance anymore either. Things are quiet for a few minutes. Now that everyone's awake, it looks like we're not going back to sleep.

I'm aware of just how lethal Dain is now. He could kill us all with just a slice with that sword of his. He spent most of the afternoon pasting belladonna on the blade, being very careful not to cut himself and get any in his system. Aloe is sick of him and the only reason Donnicon still sucks up is so that Dain won't kill him. In my opinion, Donnicon has served his purpose…but I think Dain's planning something. Something involving the boy from District 3. He needs Donnicon's help, so he keeps him alive.

"Bo-ring." Aloe yawns, shaking back her blonde hair. Her voice is hoarse because of the fact that Dain nearly strangled her. The bruises are still there. "Jeez, we haven't tracked down anyone today. I think we're getting soft. What about Tea? We should find and kill her."

"We did track," Dain reminds her, sounding annoyed, "We just didn't find anyone. Do you have a problem with that, Aloe?"

Aloe just shrugs. She's not going to openly disagree with Dain, but she defies him in the smallest ways she can. At first I thought it was like, sexual tension between them. Now I'm forced to admit, because of the way Dain almost killed Aloe, that they hate each other.

"Do we have any food or water left?" I ask.

Donnicon throws me an irritated glance. "Do you only ever think about your stomach? If you want to go down to the lake and get some fish, you're more than welcome. Who knows? Your district partner might have the same idea. You could take her out."

Tea. I'm not sure whether I could bring myself to kill her, especially as it would mirror Myliana's betrayal of her district partner a few years ago.

"It's the middle of the night," I snap at him, "You couldn't see a bloody thing in the water, District 3."

Tea's not stupid enough to hang around the lake in any case. She knows that tributes would go down there to drink. Aloe's large bottle, gained from a sponsor, is now empty and she shakes it to prove the fact.

"I think that's the least of our worries," Dain reprimands, "Alright, so who's left on the playing field?"

Donnicon frowns in consideration and ticks off the other eight tributes on his fingers. "Jenna from my district. Tea. Both from 5. I think…the boy from 6. Both from 9 and the boy from 12."

"Any ideas about alliances?" Aloe asks, leaning back and closing her eyes.

"District 9 are working together still, definitely," Donnicon replies with confidence, "District 12's with them. I'd say Apollo with his sister and Jenna. Maybe Tea's with them. The boy from 6 we haven't even seen, so I'm guessing he's by himself."

I don't think going for District 6 is a good idea. We probably wouldn't be able to find him in any case. I would have suggested Apollo and his group, but we don't know how many of them there are. It would be good to take another swipe at District 9.

Aloe shakes her head. "No, I think Tea's more likely to be working by herself. Same with Apollo. I mean, he ditched his sister. She'd probably just tell him to piss off if he came crawling back."

Donnicon just shrugs and lies down to sleep. I don't blame him. It's getting late and although we've all stayed up to discuss the other tributes, we need sleep if we're going to hunt them down tomorrow. Dain and Aloe bicker for a little while over who's going to take first watch.

"Ladies first, Aloe." Dain tells her smoothly.

Aloe's eyes narrow. "I don't think so. I had to give you some of _my_ water today, didn't I? The least you could do in return if to have first watch."

"No," Dain rumples his dark hair, "The least I could do is to not kill you."

Donnicon groans. "Do you two ever stop fighting?"

"Shut up, District 3," Dain and Aloe both snarl at the same time, before they glower at one another. I can tell that Aloe doesn't want to be on Dain's bad side and risk getting killed…because she knows neither Donnicon nor I will step in to save her if Dain turns on her.

"Fine!" She folds her arms across her chest and sits there moodily. "Go to sleep. Just don't be surprised if you wake up with your throat slit, Dain."

Donnicon chuckles at the irony of her statement and rolls over onto his side. "But he wouldn't wake up at all if that was the case."

"Be quiet, wise guy," Aloe says to him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You've served your purpose. I don't know you still stick around. I'm mildly surprised that Dain hasn't killed you yet."

She leans back against the tree, still looking annoyed. The next thing I know, something is rustling through leaves towards us and before anyone can even blink, Aloe is being dragged, screaming, into the darkness.

* * *

**Phoenix Desoleil – District 12**

My arm still hurts where that District 1 girl cut me, but I can deal with it. It's not infected and I just undo the bandage every morning to check that it's alright. I know I'm close to other tributes, because a girl's scream resonates around the arena. For a moment I wonder if it's Angel, then I remind myself that I don't care anymore, because I'm not in an alliance with her and Rocco now.

There's shouting and screaming again, and after a few moments, a cannon goes off. Someone's dead. I can only hope it was the Careers. Whatever, it doesn't matter either way because I'm looking out for myself.

Voices cut off my train of thought. At first I think it's the tributes who survived whatever the hell happened, but I realize it can't be. They're a fair distance from where I am now. I grip the throwing knife, but before I can move, a curly-haired girl jumps from the trees with an arrow pointed directly at my heart.

"Who are you?" she demands as a pale boy follows her. I notice that she hasn't shot me yet. It's probably because I'm alone, so she knows that I'm not a Career…wait, I recognize this girl. She's Tea from District 4, who _is _a Career. The boy with her, though, is the one from 6. Okay, now I'm confused.

"Phoenix from District 12." I reply. "I know who you two are. You're a Career though, aren't you?"

Tea's eyes narrow, but she lowers her bow. "I'm no more a Career than you are. Phoenix…wait, I thought you were with District 9."

I shrug. "Yeah, I was. But things change. You were a Career at the beginning and now you're not."

The boy from District 6 – I think his name is Wolf – looks around with raised eyebrows.

"Well, okay, who was screaming then?"

We'll have to wait until tomorrow night to find out for sure who died. By the multiple shouts I know there were several of them and by the screaming, there was at least one girl. I'm placing my bets on the Careers.

"You want an alliance?" Tea asks, tilting her head to the side. "After all, it's either that or Wolf and I are going to have to kill you and be on our merry way."

I smirk. Well, that's a nice way of putting it. "Fine. Alliance it is."

I watch as Tea and Wolf decide to set up camp. My eyes are mainly on Tea. She's actually very pretty and she must be resourceful if she managed to escape the Careers and survive this long. Knowing that psycho from District 2, it's a wonder she's not dead.

"Are you going to help?" She demands, turning to face me. I shrug and help her scatter leaves over a net – probably used for fishing – to make our shelter inconspicuous. After that's done, Tea almost irritably offers me a fish. It's not cooked, but I'm from District 12, so uncooked fish isn't the worst I've eaten. We don't dare light a fire. We're not that stupid.

"This actually doesn't taste so bad," Wolf mutters.

So, I know that Tea can get us food. Water, too. So what's so good about Wolf? I don't know anything about the boy from District 6. That's when I realize that that's _exactly_ what is good about Wolf. He must have been hiding this entire time. I wonder why he decided to come out and risk an alliance with Tea – why Tea, in turn, wanted to risk an alliance with me.

"So why'd you leave?" I ask Tea once we're done eating. She stiffens and for a moment I think she's not going to tell me, but then she relents and sighs heavily.

"Well…District 1 was alright. My district partner, Falcon…well he was really into the whole Careers thing. Then there was District 2…" Tea shudders. "I mean, you've got Aloe, who can be a bitch sometimes – and then you've got Dain."

She stops there and I don't need her to continue. I saw Dain at the bloodbath when he killed Lyssa. I think I know exactly the sort of person he is. The problem is, District 1 are both dead. That leaves District 2, the District 4 boy…and I swear there were a couple of others allied with the Careers. The District 3 boy and…was that it?

"I know exactly what you mean." I reply darkly. I am very fortunate that I, unlike Angel, haven't done anything to aggravate Dain. She'll be lucky if she lasts a few more days. I'm surprised that Dain hasn't taken her down already.

We all settle down to sleep except me, because I volunteer for first watch. I smile ever so slightly when Tea tilts to the side and her head ends up resting on my shoulder. I don't try and move her and that's when I wonder what exactly I've got myself into.


	17. When We Start Killing

**WHEN WE START KILLING**

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers as usual! I would love it if you checked out 'Sacrifice', the sequel to 'Nefarious', under my joint account Smexi-MnM's. :)**

* * *

**Donnicon Wayland – District 3**

Freaking unbelievable. Aloe is such a drama queen. I mean first of all she screams bloody murder when I try and put my hands up her shirt. I wasn't trying to kill her. Hell, it wasn't even that much of a big deal. Stupid bitch. As if that's not bad enough, someone's got her and is dragging her through the forest while she screams hysterically and we have to bloody chase her down.

We're not bothering because of any loyalty to Aloe. The only reason we do this is because it's probably another tribute – or perhaps a group of them – and we're all hungry for someone to kill. Falcon's running with his torch and when we reach the spot where Aloe is crumpled on the ground, I notice that her face is spattered with blood. Her blood?

"Watch out!" Aloe shrieks.

Something huge moves past me, bowling me over. I swear like a fiend, because I'm suddenly aware that whatever this is, it's way too big to be another tribute. It must be some kind of mutt. I drag myself up off the ground enough to shout to Falcon.

"Shine your torch on it!"

He whirls around and the torchlight lands on this…thing…the likes of which I've never seen before. Basically, it's a demented definition of what I think might be a werewolf. It looks half-human, half-wolf and it snarls at Falcon and swipes out with a paw, knocking him flying. The spear – the one that used to be Jordan's spear – lands in the ground with its wicked point sticking up.

Unfortunately, Falcon lands on top of and the spear skewers him directly through the middle. For a moment he just sits there awkwardly. Aloe, blood-spattered and horrified, is looking directly at him. I think she knows he is the last person who could possibly stick up for her against Dain. He makes this strange gurgling noise and then slumps motionless. Then there's the sound of his cannon.

"Shit!" Dain shouts as the mutt comes at him. He grits his teeth and swings with his sword and then the thing's head comes off with a squelch and lands right near Aloe, who is shakily picking herself up off the ground.

"What the hell was that?" she demands, but none of us are really listening to her. We're acknowledging the fact that there are only eight tributes, excluding the three of us, left alive in the arena. Dain non-chalantly wipes the blood on the hem of his already red shirt.

"A mutt, of course. Half-human, half-wolf. Dammit, I thought it was another tribute…"

Aloe tosses back her hair. "Another tribute that could just drag me off like that?"

Dain smirks. "Well, Donnicon managed to get on top of you, didn't he? And I always thought he was weaker than you…"

Aloe narrows her eyes, but doesn't say anything. She's getting less defiant and I know this is because Falcon is dead and I'm not sticking up for her. She glances down at the beheaded mutt, her mouth twisting in disgust.

"So what now?" Aloe asks, Falcon's death clearly having thrown her from the rails of what she was sure of.

Dain just grins and sheaths his sword. "What do you think? We hunt down the rest of the tributes…before there are too few of us left to do it."

I reckon that if it was just Aloe and Dain, and I hadn't been part of this Career alliance, then Aloe would be dead by now. So really, she should be thanking me for being around and making sure that Dain lets her keep breathing.

"Do you think that was the only mutt?" I inquire. "I mean…there could be more."

Aloe shrugs. "I don't think so. I don't _see_ any more and they all would have attacked at the same time."

The sky's starting to get lighter now. I think it must be nearly dawn. Dain lifts his head and looks around. He almost looks like he's sniffing for tributes. I restrain a laugh that could probably get me killed. Finally, he nods and points in a random direction.

"What makes you think there are tributes that way?" Aloe demands, cocking her hip.

Dain observes her with a slight frown. "Can't you smell it?"

Aloe just frowns. "Smell what?"

He smiles and points in the same direction again. "The smell of death."

He's joking. Aloe just scowls, but I do know why Dain picked that particular direction. I can hear voices – distant, but still audible. There must be tributes nearby. Aloe sighs heavily and follows Dain's determined march through the trees.

* * *

**Apollo Palein – District 5**

The sound of a nearby cannon makes us all jump. It's much closer than we'd like, especially because just a few moments earlier, we'd heard a girl screaming and boys shouting. I'm not sure which tributes these are, but I think we're going to run into them. Artemis has strung her bow and I've reached for my sword. Jenna wields a dagger and is looking quite annoyed at this. I still feel a sting of pity every time I glance at what remains of her left hand.

It's Artemis I'm more worried about at the moment. She's still shivering a lot, despite the fact that she's wearing her jacket and Jenna and I aren't wearing ours. I think she might be coming down with hypothermia or something. That wouldn't be good, because it's not like we have any medicine. I don't think I could bear seeing her die. Eventually I might have to, though. Because with that cannon before, it means there are eleven of us left.

"If it isn't Apollo!"

I feel sick to my stomach. I know that voice. If I was alone, I could deal with this, but not now. Not with a sick Artemis and injured Jenna. I turn slowly. Sure enough, it's the remainders of the Careers. They don't look so intimidating now. Wait, I'm sure I heard one cannon earlier, not two. So why are both Tea and Falcon from District 4 missing? It's only Dain, Aloe and Donnicon.

Dain, of course, is bearing that same sick smile he always has. There's still a mark on his cheek where Angel slashed him – and I feel a surge of vicious satisfaction because of it. I glance at Aloe. She's looking like a caged animal, angry and feral, for reasons I don't know. There are bruises around her throat. Perhaps she was attacked by another tribute? Then there's Donnicon, just sort of hanging back because he knows he can't do anything.

"What do you want, Dain?" I ask wearily. "You've come here to kill me? Go on, then. Get it over with."

I turn back and give Artemis a meaningful glance. I can take Dain and Aloe, but in the end, I'll be killed. I know this, but as long as she and Jenna get away, that's alright with me. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head slowly.

"Kill you?" Dain raises his eyebrows and laughs sinisterly. "Where's the fun in that? Oh, no. I want to play, Apollo. I'm going to rip your heart from your chest."

I spread my arms wide. "Go right ahead."

Aloe looks like she wants to stab me right through the heart, but Dain just smirks and tilts his head to the side.

"Whoever said I meant literally?"

His eyes shift to Artemis and with horror, I realize exactly what he means. He's going to hurt my little sister. He's going to use her to make me feel pain like I've never felt before. Physical pain, I can handle. The pain of watching Dain torture my sister to death? No, I couldn't possibly live through that.

Donnicon takes a few steps backwards as Dain lunges. Artemis turns her face like she can bear to see what's going to happen to her – but that's when I find the courage to move. I throw myself at Dain and we both go crashing to the ground. For a few brief moments there's a struggle, before Dain manages to gain the upper hand and, laughing, presses his sword to my throat. I feel the sting and blood trickles down from where the tip is just piercing the skin.

"I'd kill you now…but that would be too easy, wouldn't it?"

Dain clambers up and I glance desperately from Artemis to Jenna, trying to regain my composure. I must look like such an idiot…so weak. Dain sees the looks I give the two girls and he offers me a sadistic smile before he raises the sword above his head as if in triumph. I close my eyes in desperation, wondering what I'm supposed to do to stop this psycho. It's like I'm suddenly frozen. I don't want to see what Dain is going to do to my sister.

There's a whirring sound, like a weapon being thrown. The next thing I know, Artemis is screaming. I open my eyes, prepared to defend her no matter the cost…but it's not her who's hurt. She's sobbing uncontrollably and my heart sinks in my chest as I hear the sound of the cannon. I glance past her in disbelief. Dain must have thrown his sword…because Jenna is pinned to the tree, impaled by the blade. By the cannon, I know it's already too late.

I want to sob openly, as Artemis is doing. I loved Jenna. I know I did. Now she's dead, dead because I was too much of a coward to fight back, dead because I closed my eyes when I should have been paying attention. Dain is smiling as he moves forward towards Artemis, pulling the blade from Jenna as he comes – but then he flinches and jumps back as an arrow whizzes past and pierces Aloe right in the centre of the head. Her cannon goes off as her knees give way and she falls to the ground. Like we all will. We all fall down.

I turn and see Artemis lowering her bow, an expression of pure hatred on her face. She reaches back for another arrow, and Dain seems to get that he's not going to be able to kill her before she gets him, because then he and Donnicon are turning and running in the opposite direction. Artemis sinks to her knees beside Jenna's motionless body and I hold her as she sobs, reaching forward to close Jenna's eyes for the last time as the hovercraft comes for her.

"She was my friend," Artemis whispers, "It shouldn't have been her. I thought he was going to throw his sword at me…why couldn't it have been me?"

I hold her tighter, trying to fight back the inevitable tears. "Don't ever say that, Artemis. You're going to go home. It's going to be you."

She sniffs and looks quizzically at me. "What makes you think that?"

I'm deadly serious in what I say next. "Because I'm going to die. Only one of us can go home…and I'm going to make sure that it's you."

* * *

**Angel Ferriday – District 9**

I've figured out the arena now. Rocco sits patiently as I explain almost excitedly that it's like the practise targets he fires arrow at back home. I draw in the dirt with a stick to demonstrate what I mean.

"So you've got the lake as the bulls-eye." I draw a small circle, but Rocco leans forward and frowns.

"No, that can't be right. The Cornucopia was right near the forest."

I sigh in irritation. "Rocco, the Cornucopia isn't always in the middle of the arena. Now just sit back, shut up and listen, okay?"

His violet eyes spark and I know he wants to argue, but he just shrugs and does what I tell him to. That's probably the worst part of it – I've got him wrapped him around my little finger, and I know it.

"Around the lake is the shore. Then you've got the forest, which is the thickest band. I'm guessing we started off in the middle of the forest band and then spread out from there."

Rocco nods slowly. "Right. But…only three rings?"

I shake my head and point in the distance. I've only just spotted it now, because the canopy is so thick you can't really see…but there are mountains at the very edge of the forest.

"The fourth ring: mountains. So basically, if everyone comes to the lake at the same time, we'd probably see each other…and kill each other. I'm guessing for the feast, we're going to be summoned down to the lake, because then there's no way we'll miss each other."

"That…that actually makes sense," Rocco sounds impressed and I can't quite suppress a smirk.

"Well, I do have my moments."

Two cannons, one about twenty seconds after the other, suddenly go off and we both jump. I exchange a troubled look with Rocco.

"Who do you think that was?" I ask of him.

There's something almost vicious in Rocco's expression. "I don't know. But I'm hoping that one of them was Dain."

I hope so as well, but I know that's wishful thinking. Dain seems the sort of person who would be extremely dangerous to kill. In District 9, we all have stereotypes for the districts. Now that I'm in the arena myself, I know that it's mean and unfair…but at the same time, some of the stereotypes are horribly accurate.

District 1 is always gorgeous and arrogant. District 2 is brutal and barbaric. District 3 is the weak but clever kids. District 4 is sporty and athletic. District 5 often dies in the bloodbath. District 6 stays solitary while everyone else forms alliances. District 7 is loud. District 8 is good with shelters, but not much else. District 9 – our district – is the night hunters. Districts 10, 11 and 12 don't even merit our notice. Right now, I can see how shallow we were…except Dain is even worse than most other District 2 tributes.

"I'm betting we're at least one more Career down," I agree, although I'm left to wonder whether I'm just hoping this. "So…when the feast is inevitably called. What are we going to do?"

Rocco just shrugs. "Depends how many tributes are left alive by then. Depends if _we're_ alive. I'm mildly surprised that I'm still breathing, actually. With those two cannons, there are…nine of us left."

This sends shivers down my spine. How have I made it this far? I don't think I could have done it if it wasn't for Rocco. He's been looking out for me. I'm thinking back to tactics that the victors have used in the past few years.

24th Hunger Games. Praetor Lawson, District 2. Not like Dain, but still ruthlessly efficient at killing. Showdown with the girl from District 7. After all the Careers were dead, Praetor kept to himself and mainly killed during the night.

23rd Hunger Games. Myliana Cook, District 4. Killed her District partner in order to win. The pair of them broke away from the Career alliance unusually early, teaming up to kill the girl from District 2 and the boy from District 1.

22nd Hunger Games. Heath Fallicoat, District 1. Doesn't surprise me that in the past three years, victors have been from the Career districts. Heath managed to pin down the boy from District 5 and strangle him to death.

21st Hunger Games. Star Dragonet, shockingly from District 11. Stayed in the trees for most of the Games and only came down when it was down to herself and three Careers. Displayed a wicked flair for archery and shot them all down.

20th Hunger Games. Daniel Thanos, District 3. Rigged the arena so that many of the other tributes were blown up. In the end it was just him and the girl from District 4, who he eliminated by electrocuting her while she swam in the river.

"I say we do it," I whisper almost recklessly. It would be a chance to eliminate more opposition. The Careers will have lost power. District 1's gone. The boy from District 4 is dead, too. If another one of them died today, then that only leaves about two or three of them. So just let the remainder of them try and take the rest of us on. They're good, but not _that _good.

Rocco turns to face me with a slight frown. "You sure you want to give it a go?"

I nod fervently. "It's our chance, Rocco. We haven't had a victor since the 1st Hunger Games. We can at least try."

Rocco doesn't say what I'm thinking, although I know he must be thinking it, too. Only one of us, if any, is going to be going back to District 9. But we both play pretend and act like everything's going to be okay, like the love we have can really last.

* * *

**Tea Ryan – District 4**

"So…what exactly do you do in District 12?" I ask of Phoenix. Wolf went to sleep after we saw the faces in the sky. Three dead today – Aloe from District 2, Jenna from District 3 and Falcon from District 4. I'm a little saddened at the loss of my district, but not cripplingly so. After all, he practically gave himself away to the other Careers. He would have killed me to if Dain had told him to.

Phoenix shrugs. I wish I could make out his amber-gold eyes through the darkness. He's got such beautiful eyes…but no. I can't be thinking about things like that. I'm not going to make this complicated by falling in love with Phoenix.

"Most of us mine coal by the time we're eighteen. But I don't want to."

That's surprising to me. Maybe it's because I love the ocean so much, because I have always loved our district's job of fishing. I tilt my head to the side and observe him with a slight frown.

"Well, what do you want to do, then?"

Phoenix doesn't look at me, as if he's a little embarrassed. "Umm, I'm not really sure. I've always loved singing, I guess…but it doesn't seem like a real District 12 career."

"Singing?" This is intriguing. Phoenix's voice is husky and deep. I can't really imagine him singing and I pluck up the courage to ask: "Do…do you think you could sing for me?"

The last two words make me flush as they come out of my mouth. 'For me', I said. That sounds so presumptuous. Phoenix shifts uncomfortably and I wonder if I've offended him. After a few painful moments, he replies.

"Okay."

He licks his lips and I drew my knees to my chest and listen to him. Phoenix never said that he was a _good _singer…but he's brilliant.

"Dear pain, oh it's been a long time. Remember when you were holding me tight? I would stay awake with you all night."

His voice is clear and there's just a touch of bitterness there, the irony of singing in a time like this where other teenagers are dying. It's not a happy song at all though, and I suppose it's fitting.

"Dear shame, I was safe in your arms. You were there when it all fell apart. I would get so lost in your beautiful lies."

I turn my head a little, so that Phoenix won't see that his singing has really touched me on an emotional level. Tears are starting to well in my eyes, as much because of the beauty of Phoenix's voice as because of what the song really means.

"Dear hate, I know you're not far. You'd wait at the door of my heart. I was amazed at the passion in your cries. Dear anger, you made me so high. You were faithful to show up on time. Such a flame that was burning in your eyes."

When I think of pain, I think of the boy from District 2 with the cold, cruel eyes. When I think of shame, I think of the boy from District 4 who I abandoned, the boy who's dead now. When I think of hate, I think of the embittered girl from District 2, who was probably killed by her district partner. When I think of anger, I think of the boy from District 5 who dared to stand up against the Careers. He's still alive.

"Thank you," I whisper, not exactly sure why I'm grateful, "You're…you're a wonderful singer."

Phoenix seems to see that his singing has moved me, because suddenly he shuffles closer and puts his arm around my shoulders, attempting to comfort me…only that upsets me even more, because I know we're getting closer and I know that this is a romance that cannot be. I wriggle out of his grasp and sob into my hands.

"Please don't touch me." I choke. "It only makes it harder than it already is."

"One or both of us is going to die," Phoenix's voice is little more than a whisper, "So why not make the most of the time we have. You're a lovely person, Tea. I only wish I got to know you in another way...that this never happened."

But I'm not a lovely person. I ran away from the Careers out of cowardice. I've killed another person. I don't know how Phoenix can stand me when I hate myself because of who I've become. What does he see in me? I wish the Games could just end now. I wish the Capitol could have enough of death, but I know that's hopeless, because this is only going to end with one survivor.

Who's it going to be? I'd cut off my arm to stop Dain from winning, but I know he's a very likely candidate. Apollo from 5 is strong. Rocco from 9…he's a bit of a mystery, but he got an eleven in training. Phoenix stands a good chance as well…except it doesn't matter who wins. There's only more death, more blood, more heartbreak to come. I think I already know who my murderer is going to be.

"Phoenix, I need you to promise me something."

He glances across at me quizzically. "What?"

"I know what Dain's like. I need you to promise me…that if he tries to torture me…promise me you'll kill me. Give me a quick, clean death – because he won't."

At first, I think Phoenix is going to object, to tell me that he won't…because he's awfully quiet. After a few moments though, he looks across at me and his eyes are glittering.

"I promise."

I realize I can't undo this. I've practically given Phoenix of District 12 permission to end my life.


	18. I Don't Need A Parachute

**I DON'T NEED A PARACHUTE**

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**A/N: As usual, a HUGE thanks to my readers and reviewers!**

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**Wolf Merritt-Bice – District 6**

It's so crazy that I don't know whether I want to laugh or cry. Phoenix and Tea have developed feelings for each other. As soon as the sun rises, Tea's shaking the pair of us awake and telling us that we're going to head down to the lake and then she'll catch us some fish. Phoenix and I know the drill by now – Tea fishes and we stand guard. Sometimes, Tea won't catch anything. Looks like today's one of those days, because by the time we reach the lake, it's clear that something is very wrong.

Tea stops with her net slung over her shoulder, just staring out at what used to be the lake. I told the two of them my theory about the arena being like an archery target yesterday, and how I thought the lake was the bulls-eye. Only now that we've reached the lake, it's frozen over. I mean, it's not cold…but the Gamemakers must have frozen the lake over. The Cornucopia sits smack-bang in the middle, all three storeys of it.

"What the hell?" Tea rants, throwing down her net in anger. "How am I supposed to catch us any food now? It was hard enough already without the lake being freaking frozen!"

Phoenix places a hand on her arm to calm her, but she quickly leans down to pick up her net again. I don't think Tea likes physical contact much, because every time Phoenix reaches out to her, she moves away. Perhaps she's scared, because she knows that their relationship will only end in heartbreak.

"This hasn't been done for no reason," I mutter, trying to figure out what the Gamemakers' motives might be. "I'd say the Gamemakers have frozen the lake and put the Cornucopia here for the feast, whenever it might be."

Tea swings around to face me, her eyes blazing.

"Don't you understand, Wolf? This is our main water source! And it's not just us. If the other tributes can't find other water sources, then we're all going to die."

I am silent. Tea is right. Not only have we lost our food source, but our water as well. By eliminating the lake, the Gamemakers has practically rendered us helpless. I watch as Tea tries to figure something out, but her shoulders slump and I know she has no solution to our problem.

"Come on, District 6," she snaps at me, more out of concern than anything, "You're supposed to be the brains. It's the reason I haven't gutted you yet, remember?"

I just stare her down, disdain evident in my expression.

"For someone who's spent such a long time denying being a Career, sometimes you really do sound like one. Maybe you've been hanging around District 2 for too long."

Tea bares her teeth in anger and makes to take a swing, but Phoenix grabs her by the arm and pulls her back.

"Don't. We don't need to be fighting amongst ourselves. We need to think now. Who could be our allies? Who are our enemies? Where can we find food and water?"

There are nine tributes left, six if you don't include us. There are two Careers out there – Dain and that District 3 boy. Then there are four more – both from District 5 and both from District 9. I wonder if they've teamed up or if they're both in pairs. The fact remains is that our greatest threat is the Careers. There might only be two of them, but it doesn't matter.

As for food and water, I'm not sure. I'm sure that if Tea can catch fish, she might be able to catch other animals. Even berries or nuts would do. Water is the bigger issue. If we don't find water in a couple of days, we're going to die. Oh, that's if we're still _alive _in a few days. I narrowly refrain from saying this aloud, only because it will make Tea even more pissed off than she is already. She likes fishing and now that's been taken away from her.

Phoenix points away from the lake. "You say this is like a target, right, Wolf? So we head away from the centre and head towards the mountains. There could be water there for all we know. It's an option we haven't tried yet."

I think Phoenix is clutching at straws, but I find myself nodding. Not because I agree, but because I don't think we have many more options. Tea's still looking a bit put out, but she exhales deeply and nods, too. She's willing to listen to what Phoenix has to say.

"Alright. I suppose…there's always a chance we might get sponsors." She sounds doubtful, though. I think Tea stopped believing in herself some time ago. I smile and try to boost her confidence. Her fishing skills should have earned her sponsors by now. Perhaps it's because she left the Career pack and the Capitol doesn't like it? Oh well. I can't pretend to understand the Capitol, because I don't understand how teenagers killing each other can be classified as a sport.

* * *

**Dain Winters – District 2**

So it's only Donnicon and I now. Not that I really care that Aloe is dead, but at least she was _useful._ At least she could defend herself. Donnicon barely manages that, but I know I do need him…for now. Because he's going to help me lure Rocco Harkens of District 9 out from whatever rock he's hiding under and I have the perfect plan on how to do it.

"Do you think you can generate electricity or not?" I ask of him irritably. Without anyone else attempting to calm me down, Donnicon knows that he bears the brunt of my impatience until we find any other tributes.

"I'm not sure," he admits, "I'd have to give it a couple of tests runs first, just to be certain…"

I growl in annoyance and Donnicon shuts up immediately and gets back to work. Before he might have been a bit mouthier, might have been inclined to talk back, but now I can see him for the little coward that he is. With Aloe dead, Donnicon knows that if we fuck up, he's going to get the blame. It's good to know that he's smart enough to be afraid of me.

It's a shame that I didn't get to kill District 5. I enjoyed watching Apollo tremble when he thought I was going to hurt his sister…and then he turned his gaze on Donnicon's district partner and I knew that he cared. So I killed her and I would have got him as well…if his stupid sister hadn't gone and shot Aloe. That just ruined everything.

But District 5 isn't my priority at the moment. My focus is entirely on the lovely brunette from District 9 and her eleven-out-of-twelve partner. I still think it's bullshit. The Gamemakers must like him because he's a pretty boy or something. Well, it won't matter, because once my plan is complete, that idiot is worse than dead.

It doesn't matter if Donnicon's scheme doesn't work. I've always got my sword, which would add a lovely bit of pain and belladonna hallucinations to anyone's day. There are seven left, apart from Donnicon and I. Whichever I get my hands on are going to die very slow, because the Capitol wants a show, and I'm prepared to give it to them.

"Any you want for yourself?" I ask Donnicon as he gets to work testing the wires.

He shrugs. "District 5's okay."

I smirk. "I assume you mean the girl."

I really do have a big kill list at the moment. Apollo, Tea, Rocco, Angel. It's actually quite ironic that despite the fact that Tea abandoned the Careers, apart from me, she's the only one of us left. Donnicon's not a true Career. I barely even know anything about the boys from District 6 and District 12 who are still out there. All I know was that District 12 was with Rocco and Angel at some point. Might as well kill him as well, or I could leave him to Donnicon. Although I don't know if the way Donnicon plans to kill people is exactly what I'd call enjoyable. It's probably quick and painless. How boring.

"Why exactly were you trying to cop a feel?" I ask of Donnicon, amused. "I mean, seriously, Aloe? She could have cut your balls off."

Donnicon shrugs and scowls. "I don't know. I just thought I would, I guess."

I know well enough why. Donnicon knows he's going to die. He knows once he's stopped becoming useful, I'll kill him and he won't be able to stop me. He wanted to try and grope Aloe because it would be the last piece of action he'd get. He just doesn't want to admit that.

The only other thing Donnicon's good at, surprisingly, is using a bow and arrow. He often misses but on the odd occasion he'll actually come back with food, which isn't bad for someone from the techie district. That's another reason I need him. We're starting to run out of water, though, so we'll have to head back to the lake, right in the centre of the arena. I wonder if the other tributes have figured out that our arena is a target and that the primary water source is dead centre.

At least with the other actual Careers dead, I won't have to kill them myself. Well, apart from Tea, but she's a traitor so that doesn't really count. She'll be sorry she left us when I catch up with her…except I'm not in any hurry. I have a plan for District 9 and apart from that, I'll just kill whoever I cross. All the young ones are dead – the tributes that are left are all sixteen or older. They might try and put up a fight, but they haven't been trained their whole lives like I have. They won't stand a chance.

"It works." There's an almost relieved smile on Donnicon's face as he stands up, sighing heavily. I think he knows what would have happened if he hadn't managed to get the electricity running. "I can get the power from satellites, maybe…but perhaps the hovercrafts that come to collect the dead would be easier…"

I roll my eyes. "I don't need the details, Donnicon. You're only trying to sound smart. So long as you get the job done, that's all I care about."

Donnicon bobs his head in understanding. He knows that to me, he's just an asset. An asset that will soon become expendable. But for now, it's better having two of us than one. Donnicon might not be able to do much physically, but he can certainly come up with traps and snares that will keep other tributes in one place until I can get to them.

"You've done well," I concede. "But Donnicon? Don't get too cocky. If you ever try and turn on me, you'll be sorry you were ever born."

* * *

**Artemis Palein – District 5**

I feel so alone. I know I have Apollo, but things are different now that Jenna's dead. It was so sudden, so horrible…I still remember seeing the vicious light in Dain's eyes as he flung his sword towards her, the shock in Jenna's eyes as the force of it slammed her into the tree. The only good thing about it is that it's probably the quickest death Dain has given someone. She didn't have to suffer for very long.

Apollo loved her. That's another terrible thing. You shouldn't be able to fall in love in the arena, especially when you know at least one of you is going to die. But he did and now he's just as quiet as I am, making lame attempts at conversation whenever the silence gets too painful.

I know that I'm sick. Despite the fact that it's actually fairly warm, I can only feel cold. I'm shivering constantly and even though I've pulled my jacket around me, all I can feel is the ice inside of me. Apollo is wrong. I'm probably going to die soon. I got broth from a sponsor after I killed Aloe. It's hot, but I hardly notice the warmth even as it scalds my tongue.

"You must have hypothermia," Apollo mutters, grabbing his own jacket and putting it around my shoulders. If it was cold, I would have insisted that he kept it. No point both of us getting sick. But it's fairly warm, so I accept it with a small smile of thanks. I don't talk much now. Not since Jenna.

I look into Apollo's brown eyes and despite the fact that he tries to disguise it, I can see the dread there. He thinks I'm going to die. I _know _I'm going to die. I force a smile and reach out a hand for Apollo's. He clutches my hand and swallows the lump in his throat. His hand burns mine like fire. It's so warm. I don't think I'll ever know warmth again.

"You have to have more broth." Apollo mutters, letting my hand go and passing the container into my hands.

I shake my head fervently. "Seriously, I'm not hungry."

Apollo's eyebrows slant into a V. "I don't care, Artemis. You're going to eat. You're sick. You're going to waste away if you don't eat anything."

He sounds so concerned that I can't deny him. Reluctantly, I raise the broth to my lips and take a slurp. I can hardly even taste it as it slides down my throat. I wonder if my drinking from the same container, Apollo might get sick as well.

"We're going to get you better." Apollo's tone is fierce. "Do you hear me? I'm going to take care of you, Artemis. I'm supposed to look after you – and I'm doing one hell of a job."

"It's not your fault," I whisper. I'm tired, but I'm scared of going to sleep. I'm scared that once I close my eyes, I'll never open them again. "None of this is your fault, Apollo."

"Yes, it is!" His brown eyes are shining with tears and he shakes his head vigorously. "Dain knocked me down and it was like…like I couldn't get up. If I hadn't been so weak, Jenna would still be alive. If I hadn't been a coward, that bastard wouldn't have killed her."

My frame's shaking with sobs. I don't like hearing Apollo talk like this. He's blaming himself for everything and that's not fair, because Jenna dying wasn't his fault. There's only one person to blame for all of this pain, but it's a name I can't possibly speak. I reach out and take Apollo's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You're cold as ice." Apollo mutters, but he doesn't let go. Because we're all that each other has. For at least one, if not both of us, there isn't going to be a District 5. We're going to die in this arena. Twenty-three of us are going to die.

"Don't leave me." I mumble. I know it's selfish, but I can't help it. I don't want to die without my brother by my side. I want him to stick by me until the end.

Apollo puts his arms around me and kisses my forehead. He's so warm. How can he be so warm? I know it's just because I'm so cold. The tears spill from his eyes and drip down into my hair. I feel like I couldn't move even if I wanted to.

"Her district partner was right there." Apollo's voice is full of anger now. "Donnicon Wayland. He just _stood _there. He watched her die and he didn't even try to stop it."

I don't think Donnicon could have stopped Dain without the District 2 boy killing him, but I know what Apollo means. Donnicon had just watched emotionlessly as Dain impaled Jenna. There wasn't even anything like emotion in his dark eyes.

"I don't think he cares anymore," I whisper, "He just wants to live and while he's with Dain, he stands a chance. But he's living on borrowed time. Dain's going to kill him eventually if no one else does."

Nine of us left. One more dead and we have our final eight. The interviews will start then. I suppose it doesn't matter if I die, because we don't really have any relatives for the Capitol to interview in any case. I hate it. All of it. The Capitol dresses us up, makes us perform for the crowd…but the real show is watching us all die. How can people actually sanction something horrific?

I think of young Crow Sullivan, this year's youngest tribute – and the first to die. I had only ever seen death on the television every year, but in the arena, it hits much harder. Crow looked nothing short of terrified. He was helpless. Some might say pathetic. But I don't think anyone deserves to die the way we tributes do. We die for a cause that no longer exists. We die for the Capitol's entertainment.

* * *

**Rocco Harkens – District 9**

This is no good. Day 8, and we're running out of water. Come on, we can't die of thirst. After we've managed to survive this long, we couldn't possibly die of something so stupid right now. It's not me I'm concerned about, though. Angel sits with her knees tucked up underneath her chin. There are dark circles under her eyes and she looks thinner than usual. Of course, she was never really a beanpole; she had curves and everything… Snap out of it, Rocco. I have to stop thinking about Angel and keep my head in the game. Literally.

"Angel?"

"Mmm?" She looks across at me.

"Are you okay?"

I've been trying so hard to suppress my feelings for her. Because if the Capitol knows, if anyone knows, it's just another weapon they can use against me. Phoenix knows. Teryn knew, but she's dead now. I'm not sure who else could possibly know, because of my stupid slip-up on the chariot. I'm pretty certain now that Angel feels the same way, except the problem is, she wants to use our relationship to get us sponsors. That's not something I can do. It just feels…wrong. I want what we have to be real, not a show generated for the Capitol's benefit.

Angel forces a smile and nods. "I'm fine. Just feeling a little tired, that's all."

Tired isn't good. She can't die, though. Not Angel. I won't let her. There haven't been any cannons today, but that doesn't mean no one has died. More likely, we just didn't hear them go off. It's nearly night, so I suppose we'll see the faces in the sky soon enough.

"Isn't there something I can get you?" I persist. I grab my bow and arrow. If I go out hunting, perhaps kill another tribute, and then maybe I'll get a parachute. "I'm sure that I can do something to get sponsors, Angel."

"Why would I need a parachute?" Angel laughs, and for just a moment there's something fragile in her eyes. "After all, I've got you." Then I can't take it anymore. So I lunge forward and press my lips almost desperately to hers. I pull her into my lap and wind one arm around her waist as the other gently strokes through her once-soft hair. I know that this is Angel's method of getting sponsors, not mine…but I feel like I'm on fire, like I can't stop. I'm addicted to the drug that is Angel Ferriday – and I don't want to stop. I rake her hair back and trail my lips down the slender column of her neck. She gasps, but then pulls away. I'm a little disappointed.

"No, we can't." Angel sounds like she regrets it. She bites her lip and turns away.

"Why?" I demand, a bit angry now. Isn't that what she wanted? Any moment there'll be a silver parachute for one of us. Is that all this is to her? Is she just using me to gain sponsors, or does she really love me? Will I ever really know for certain? "Why, Angel? Do you wish it could be Chess kissing you instead?"

"Stop it," she snaps, and I know I've touched a nerve because hurt flickers in her eyes. "I don't feel…Chess has only ever been my best friend. Nothing more."

"Oh, really?" I challenge, clambering to my feet and crossing over to her. "So that kiss in the woods when you were fourteen, that time was nothing?"

Angel looks shocked. "No…no, Rocco, you don't understand…"

I snort. "I understand well enough."

"That was to put you off, you imbecile!" Angel yells, her hands clenching into fists as her eyes glitter with rage. "If you remember, that was just after you asked me out. I told Chess to kiss me because…because I wanted to break your heart. I wanted to push you away."

This wasn't the reason I'd been expecting. I just stare at her in utter astonishment and the only hoarse word that escapes me is: "Why?"

Tears dribble down Angel's cheeks and her frame is wracked with sobs.

"Because I love you. I was fourteen and I was scared, Rocco. I was scared about how I felt and…and I didn't want it then. Part of me still doesn't want it now."

It makes sense, in the most twisted way imaginable. I move towards her and wrap my arms around her, holding her close as she cries. I plant a kiss on top of her hair. This isn't the way love is meant to be. This isn't beautiful. This is messed up and crazy. How can this possibly be love? Angel doesn't try and push me away, so I don't let go.

"Hold me tight and think of home." I whisper. For once, Angel doesn't question it, doesn't fight it. She buries her face in my chest and allows herself to cry, for District 9, for the home and people she might never see again. I swallow the lump in my throat and force back tears of my own. I have to be strong, for Angel's sake.

"He's going to come for me." Angel murmurs, disentangling herself from my arms. I know exactly who she means. "When he does, he's not going to kill me straight away. Because I hurt him. So now he's going to want to hurt me."

"I won't let him, Angel," I assure her, my tone fierce, "He's not going to touch you. I promise. I won't let him torture you."

Angel wipes the tears from her eyes. "You can't promise me that, Rocco. What if he gets you first? You got an eleven. You're practically a walking target."

I don't want to say it aloud, but I think that we're running out of time. It won't be long before Dain manages to find us. We can't avoid him forever.


	19. What I've Done

**WHAT I'VE DONE**

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**A/N: As always, a huge thanks to my reviewers! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

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**Donnicon Wayland – District 3**

I know exactly what Dain has planned and I can't say I look forward to it. Dain may relish bloodshed and violence, but I don't. I mean, you kill people, yeah, but you don't need to draw it out. It's the early hours of the morning as Dain and I prowl through the forest. Lucky I've got a good sense of direction, otherwise we wouldn't know where we set up camp. We crunch through the undergrowth, Dain with his sword drawn, just waiting to sneak up on an unsuspecting tribute. Suddenly, he holds up his hand and I stop in my tracks.

"Look."

Through the tight cluster of trees, I can see the bright flickering orange of flames dancing. I almost laugh. What kind of idiots would light a fire when it's this dark? It's practically a beacon. How have these people survived for so long? I can smell the smoke from here. Dain shakes his head in disbelief and starts moving stealthily towards the camp.

It wouldn't be District 9. They're too smart. I doubt it would be Tea, either, or the boy from District 6. By the time we reach the fire, Dain lowers his sword. It's clear that something's not right. There aren't any tributes here, or their belongings. But no one in their right mind would leave a fire to burn. Everyone knows you douse it and leave when you're done. So what exactly is going on?

That's when I see her. The girl from District 5, the one who shot Aloe. She has her bow and it's stretched taut. At first I think she's aiming for Dain, but then I see her grim smile as she deliberately aims at the fire. I don't know why she's doing it, but I know it can't be good. Dain whips around and sees her, but by that time the arrow is already whizzing across into the fire. It's the split second before the arrow hits the fire that I remember District 5's industry is oil and petroleum.

The fire explodes into an inferno. Dain and I throw ourselves away from it, narrowly avoiding having our faces burned off. By the time I look up, the District 5 girl has already disappeared through the trees. Dain grits his teeth and staggers to his feet. He looks like he wants to kill someone. Well, he always wants to kill someone, but that's beside the point.

Dain breaks into a run and I'm forced to follow him. I can see two silhouettes up ahead – both from District 5. The girl looks like she's having trouble running and I wonder if she's injured. If that's the case, Dain will catch up with them and kill them easily. The boy is almost dragging her along and she's stumbling. I wonder what's the matter with her, because her aim was fine when it came to firing that arrow.

"Run!" I hear Apollo shouting to his sister, sounding panicked. "Artemis, come on!"

My breath is ragged as I stagger after Dain, trying to keep up with him. Fury seems to be driving him faster, but he still can't catch up with District 5. Even in the darkness, I can tell where we are. We're closing in on a few of the landmines I set up and if Dain doesn't stop, he's going to be blow into oblivion.

"Stop!" I shout at him. "Dain, stop!"

He wheels around, teeth bared and for a moment he looks insane. I think he might cut me down, but instead he stalks towards me.

"What?" he snarls. "This had better be good, District 3."

Before I can say anything, an explosion thunders in our ears, jarring the ground so that we both nearly fall over. A slow smile spreads across Dain's face as he realizes what has happened to District 5. I'm suddenly wondering why I didn't let Dain go charging off to his death and for a moment, I regret shouting out to him to stop him.

Dain throws back his head and laughs. We wouldn't have heard the cannons because they would have gone off around the same time as the explosion. But I'm pretty sure that Apollo and Artemis couldn't have survived that. I set the trap myself, after all.

"You're more loyal than I thought." Dain smirks, turning to face me. "You could have let me charge straight into that, but you didn't."

Now I know why I stopped him. Because Apollo and Artemis would have exploded first and then Dain would know there were landmines there, would know that I couldn't possibly have forgotten they were there. He'd know I was trying to get him killed and in retaliation, he would kill me. Instead, I just shrug as if I don't know why I did it.  
"Seventeen down, six to go."

I don't like the sound of that, because I know that I'm one of those six. And just like Dain wonders why I let him live, I'm wondering why he hasn't gutted me yet.

* * *

**Apollo Palein – District 5**

I watch Artemis as she sleeps. She looks so peaceful and…so young. I heave a sigh. I'm glad that we managed to get Dain off our trail. He probably thinks we're dead, but I have to marvel at Artemis's cleverness. It was her idea to roll her arrowhead in the forest's fuel load and then shoot it at the fire so it burst into flame.

It's thanks to her that I'm still alive – because she remembered what Jenna said about Donnicon's traps and when the District 3 boy yelled at Dain to stop, she grabbed a rock and threw it as far as she could. Sure enough, a landmine detonated and my knees went weak with relief. That could have been me, exploding into fleshy pieces.

I'm glad that we've reached the mountains and gained a supply of water in the form of the creek that runs at the base. I forced Artemis into eating and drinking, because she doesn't want to seem to do anything anymore. Nothing but sleep. I don't mind, but I'm always scared she's going to go to sleep and not wake up. The cool mountain breeze isn't going to do anything for Artemis's health. If we ever had any sponsors, now would be a good time for them to make themselves known.

Artemis coughs herself awake and I silently hand over the last of the broth. It's still warm because it's kept in the capsule. Artemis doesn't want to eat it, I know, but she's given up on arguing with me. She drains the capsule and looks guilty as she hands it back.

"There's none left." Her voice is hoarse.

I force a smile and nod fervently. "That's okay, Artemis. So long as you had some to eat. I'm not that hungry."

It's a lie and we both know it, especially as my stomach rumbles loudly to disagree with my words. I press my lips together and watch as my sister shivers although the temperature is not that cold. I reach over and put my hand on her head. Despite the fact that she's so cold, her body temperature has risen and she has a fever. I know that if the fever doesn't break, Artemis will die.

"Leave me." Artemis closes her eyes and her lids are pale. "You don't need to look after me, Apollo. You've done the best you can and…one of us needs to survive. We both know it's not going to be me. Just leave me here to die."

I swallow the hard lump in my throat and ignore the itchy feeling of tears pricking at my eyes.

"You know I can't do that. I can't leave you alone."

Artemis's eyes snap open and I saw the tears welling there.

"But I won't be alone," she convinces me, gripping my hand in hers. "I'll be with Mum and Dad and Jenna. I'll be with all the other tributes that have died for nothing more than a cruel sport."

Oh God, I can't do this. I hate hearing Artemis talk like this, as if she's already condemned herself to her fate. I want to shout and tear out my hair. I want to get down on my knees and beg for sponsors, for anyone who can save her.

"Don't do this," I plead, "Artemis, don't talk like that. You need to hang on. You've been strong before…"

Artemis laughs hoarsely. "You call strong shooting down Aloe, or trying to burn Dain and Donnicon? I did that because I wanted to live, Apollo. I did that because I had to. I didn't do that because I was strong."

Oh, how she was wrong. I thought Artemis was strong, stronger than she knew. She held out against this hypothermia even though it would eventually kill her. If only I knew how to make her better! We should have allied with District 6. In fact, I think that the boy from 6 is out there somewhere…not that he would agree to help us.

"Do you remember the poem that Mum used to repeat to Uncle Sam when he was sick?" I ask Artemis, my voice thick. "That one that always used to make her cry?"

Artemis knows what I'm thinking. "Say it to me now, Apollo. Can you remember the words?"

She knows I can. Of course I can. When Uncle Sam was sick and dying, Mum would recite this poem to her younger brother. I don't know if she made it up or if it was real, but whenever she finished it, it would always bring her to tears.

"No, Artemis…"

"Please," she whispers.

I clear my throat and sigh. I don't want to do this. But I will…for Artemis.

"Run away with me; to the mountains, to the sea; to a place we can be free; just you and me. Forget all we know; let's just run, let's just go; from the hell below; just give in, don't say no."

I swallow hard.

"Watch it burn for you; colours red and colours blue; although we get through; no one else can make it, too."

I know what this is about and Artemis does to. Mum would say it to Sam when he was dying…but in reality, I think it was a warning for us. Because we're old enough now that we know what it means. _If you try and escape the Capitol, they will make you sorry…just like they did by introducing the Hunger Games._

"But we cannot fight; just watch the fires kill the light; watch the sun burn bright; until it sinks down and brings night."

It's that last verse that always gets me. It means that any attempt at rebellion will be burnt to the ground with the Capitol's fire. No matter how hard we try and shine, the Capitol will always be there to stamp us out. I wonder if they understand the hidden message in the poem, or if they just see it as me reciting something for my sick little sister.

* * *

**Phoenix Desoleil – District 12**

There's a rustling in the trees and I can definitely hear a boy's voice. My blood runs cold as I realize that the remaining Careers have probably caught up with us. I grab my throwing knife and Tea fits an arrow to her bow. Wolf is standing a little back with only his knife, which somehow, I don't think is going to save him.

As our enemy crashes through the tree, I ditch the throwing knife with all my might, hoping that it might be Dain so that I can cleave open his head. The bastard would deserve it. Instead, there's a muttered curse and then an arrow whizzes back through towards us, narrowly missing Wolf's arm. He staggers sideways.

It's definitely not Dain. The District 2 boy might be a fierce fighter, but I know that he can't fire an arrow for peanuts. My eyes narrow as I try and figure it out. There aren't that many players left in this game, because I'm trying to think of a male archer…and then out steps our enemy, his violet eyes burning.

"You tried to kill me," Rocco snarls, jabbing a finger at me.

Rocco isn't what concerns me. What _does _concern me is that there's no sign of Angel. Don't get me wrong, I'm not worried because she might be dead. The thing is, I know she's not. She where the hell is she?

Right on cue, there's a sudden cry behind me and I whip around to see Angel throwing herself at Tea, catching the District 4 girl around the waist so that they both smack to the ground.

"Tea!" I shout.

Rocco is attempting to pry my throwing knife from the tree without much success. It must be stuck fast, but I'm beyond caring. I'm running towards him now, determined that I'm going to get that weapon before he does. He whirls around and sees me coming and for a few moments, we grapple with each other, trying to yank each other out of the way. Rocco's fist smacks into my jaw and I punch him in the face for good measure. He's going to have a black eye, if he lives.

"Get out of my way, Phoenix," he pants, but I notice that he doesn't reach for an arrow. I think he knows that if he does, I'll already have the knife and I'll be driving it into his heart. Instead, we're both circling each other. Rocco's older and stronger, but I'm taller.

"Why don't you piss off back to your girlfriend?" I retaliate, trying to shove him aside and get the knife. He throws me to the ground, but I kick his legs out from underneath him. Then we're a mess of arms and legs, punches and kicks, both rolling everywhere in an attempt to stop the other from getting the knife. I tighten my hands around his throat as he brutally grabs my hair and tugs hard.

A shrill scream makes Rocco and I stop and I wrench myself from his grasp, whipping around at the sound of a cannon.

"Tea!"

But Tea is sitting on the ground, her arrows strewn all around her from when she fell, a look of horror on her face. It's not her that's been killed. I watch as Angel pulls her sword from Wolf's body, her eyes wide with shock at what she's done as he crumples, motionless. It's weird to think that we were once in an alliance. Especially because now, looking down at Wolf's cold, motionless body, I have to associate a person with it. I have to picture the killer. So when I do, Angel's face comes to mind.

I wonder why Tea hasn't shot her, but then I see that all of her arrows are ruined. That must have been when Angel threw her to the ground. Suddenly, I'm angry. Because now, Angel isn't the girl from District 9, someone I knew. Now, Angel is someone who has killed my ally and might even kill Tea…no, not Tea, I can't let her do that.

With a roar of rage, I sprint towards Angel. I don't care that she has a sword and I'm weaponless. I don't care about anything but killing her. She turns and sees me coming, but I've kicked her down before she can even raise her sword against me. The sword clatters to the ground and she cries out as I grab her arm and twist it ruthlessly behind her back.

"Phoenix!" I hear Tea's yell of alarm and then someone is throwing me to the side. I know that it's Rocco. He pulls Angel to her feet and she grabs her sword. I tense, preparing for them to turn and kill Tea and I…but they crash away through the trees. I turn to see that Tea has yanked the knife from the tree and had it raised, but now that Rocco and Angel are gone, she lowers it with a defeated sigh.

"No Wolf." My voice sounds hollow now, as if it doesn't belong to me. "She…she killed him."

I couldn't ever imagine Angel being that ruthless, but I guess that Games have changed us all…well, not Dain, he was psychotic to start with. I don't want to hate Angel for killing him, because I know that she had to…but it's the knowledge that she would have murdered Tea next that really gets at me.

"Are you okay?" I ask Tea as she approaches me and hands me the throwing knife. Her mouth twists as she gazes down at all of her snapped arrows.

"I guess. I'm just out of arrows."

I don't really know what I'm doing as I put my arms around her and pull her into a close embrace. At first Tea stiffens, but then she melts and rests her head against my chest as I kiss the top of her curls, feeling lost. I'm in too deep, but I can't get out. I can't fight my feelings for Tea forever.

* * *

**Dain Winters – District 2**

Only one dead today. I see the boy from District 6, his face hovering in the sky before it disappears forever. This irritates me because it means, somehow, the pair from District 5 survived. Did they rig the landmines purposely? After all, they were in an alliance with Donnicon's district partner, who would know a lot about landmines and the like herself.

It only just occurs to me that we've reached the final eight. I tick off on my fingers – me, Donnicon, Tea (how is that bitch still alive?), the pair from District 5, both from District 9 and the boy from District 12.

"Welcome to the final eight tributes!" It's Raven Bandello's voice booming over the arena. "I'm pleased to invite you to a feast at the Cornucopia tomorrow morning, in the middle of the lake. Now, before you think of declining, it isn't really a feast of food – well, not for all of you. For some of you, this may be your last chance. There will be backpacks there, each with your district number on it. Something you greatly need will be in your backpack."

Unless it's Tea's head inside that backpack, somehow I don't think the backpack has anything that I'll need, but it's not like I'm going to stay away. Eight tributes left, including me. Hell, why shouldn't I go? I could probably take a few of them down. I laugh to myself as I lie back and clasp my hands behind my head. So far, these Games seem like I'm in it to win it.

"Dain?" Donnicon sounds nervous. "Umm, do you think we should go to the Cornucopia?"

"Of course, idiot," I snap at him and he flinches. "There's something we need there. Who knows, your backpack might have a Capitol courtesan inside."

I knew I was being vindictive towards Donnicon, but I hardly thought that would sway his loyalty. I mean seriously, which other tribute would possibly form an alliance with him after he's been with the Careers? He would be all alone and we both know it. Donnicon's clever, clever enough to know that crossing me wouldn't be a smart idea.

I feel invincible. I can see how I'm going to kill all the other tributes. Oh, I'll leave District 5 and possibly the District 12 boy to Donnicon…but Tea and District 9 are mine. I probably won't get time to deal with them all at the Cornucopia tomorrow, but that hardly matters. It would be a quick end to the final eight if that was the case. I think I'll start with Tea, who's past her use-by date in any case.

I wish I could see Praetor's face now. Aloe, his little favourite, hasn't survived to the final eight. I have. I would spit at his feet. He's even younger than me, yet because he won last year's Games, he thinks he's all that. Well, I'll show him. The victor of the First Quarter Quell is going to be Dain Winters.

"Can I trust you to take first watch without slitting my throat?" I yawn across to Donnicon. I know the answer is no, of course. He wouldn't slit my throat, but I've never trusted anyone but myself. That way, there can be no surprises unless you create them.

I know what I'm going to say on my victory tour, at some of the districts: I'm the one who killed your children. Do they think I'm supposed to be remorseful? Am I meant to pretend that I don't relish killing? What a waste of time. That's Praetor's problem – he was a ruthless killer in the arena, but deep down, he _cares_ about the people he killed. He feels sorrow for them. I don't, though. That's why I'm stronger than he is.

Most of the tributes I don't care about. But when it comes to Tea and District 9 – I _hate _them. Especially Angel. I'm going to have a lot of fun with her. My fingers trace down the scar she's left on my cheek. I'm going to _break_ her. Then everyone will know what happens to those who hurt Dain Winters. Then everyone will know that I'm not the sort of person you mess with. I'll make her an example that Panem will never forget…and in doing so, I'll get her district partner at the same time. It's killing two birds with the one stone. Two _lovebirds._


	20. Eight To The Cornucopia

**EIGHT TO THE CORNUCOPIA**

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**A/N: Okay guys, I know a few of you - maybe a lot - are disappointed because there haven't been any major changes yet. Trust me, there WILL be a different Victor, but the reason there haven't been any big changes so far is because I am planning a finale that will shock you.**

* * *

**Tea Ryan – District 4**

I feel the apprehension surging through me and I gnaw at my lip as Phoenix gathers his things and looks up, offering me an encouraging smile. It's okay for him. He's got weapons. All I have is Wolf's knife and my bow…no arrows.

"Stop worrying," Phoenix comes across and presses a kiss on my cheek. He was aiming for my lips, but I turn my head to the side. "Tea. I'm going to protect you, do you understand? If anyone tries to kill you, they're going to have to get through me first."

I shake my head. "Phoenix, that's not going to work. Dain…you don't know what he's like…and he wants me dead."

Phoenix couldn't help but smile at that. "Everyone wants us dead."

I wish I could smile, too. We trek towards the lake, and suddenly I understand why it's frozen over when I see the Cornucopia in the centre. On the top storey are small coloured objects that appear to be packs. I glance surreptitiously around, but it looks like Phoenix and I are the first ones here. I approach the ice with confidence, because I'm probably the best swimmer left in the arena. It will be freaking cold, but I'll manage it if the ice breaks.

It crackles threateningly under my feet as I step out onto it, but doesn't break. Phoenix grabs my hand, clearly not nearly as calm as I am. He's gone pale and I'm left to wonder how good a swimmer he really is. I squeeze his hand to reassure him and we make the slow trip towards the Cornucopia…and I become aware that we're not the only ones.

From the east comes District 9. Rocco's got his bow strung and is bringing up the rear as Angel trudges across the ice. She's careful, looking down nervously every now and again to make sure that the ice isn't going to break underneath her.

From the north comes Dain. My heart surges with dread. With him is Donnicon, whose bow is still in its quiver. I wonder, with slight amusement, if the District 3 boy even knows how to use it. Dain's eyes are as empty as always and he sees me watching him and smiles threateningly.

From the west comes the District 5 boy – and he's alone. I wonder if his sister died and we haven't heard her cannon, or if she's waiting just beyond the trees for him. There's something haunted about his face and without knowing why, I pity him.

Phoenix and I reach the Cornucopia first. He stares around at the approaching tributes and draws the throwing knife.

"You go and get the packs, Tea. I'll defend you if the others try and attack you."

I'm pretty sure most of the tributes are just here to get their packs, not to kill…but they will if they get the opportunity, especially Dain. I scramble up the stairs and there are the packs, neatly sitting in order. I smile and although I want to grab all of them to spite the other tributes and give them a disadvantage, I know that they'd kill me before they'd let me get away.

I hear footsteps coming up the metal stairs and I whip around, expecting Phoenix or maybe District 9…but then I gasp and I'm backing away slowly, knowing that I'm defenseless.

"Hello, Tea." Dain's eyes are full of cruelty – and even worse, insanity. A chill runs down my spine as I take a step away from him. He laughs. "What, you didn't think it was that easy? You can't just turn your back on the Careers."

"I'm not here to fight you, Dain," I tell him, trying to remain calm even though my heart is racing like it's doing a marathon in my chest. "I'm just here to get my pack."

Dain shakes his head and the small of my back presses against the metal bars. I quickly look behind me and see three storeys between me and the ice below. I swallow hard. It's quite a way to fall, especially onto something as hard as ice. Dain's clearly thinking the same thing.

"You know, I've been waiting to kill you," he says almost conversationally, snatching up the District 2 pack and continuing towards me, "Now I finally have my chance. Have you said goodbye to your District 12 boyfriend, Tea? How pathetic. You seriously couldn't do any better?"

I lean over the railing. The next storey down is just below me. I could drop there and run…yeah, that's probably my best option now. As Dain takes another slow step towards me, I grab the metal bar and vault myself over, both packs slung over my shoulders. My knees jar as I land heavily one storey down, but I know I have to get up and move, otherwise…

"Phoenix!" I shout as leap down the stairs three at a time, "Come on, we have to get out of here!"

I toss him both packs as the District 5 pushes past us for the stairs, making no attempt to harm us. Donnicon is down on the ice below, and from the shouts at the top of the Cornucopia, I'm guessing that District 9 has made their way up as well.

Phoenix and I make our way back across the ice as Apollo clashes with Dain and District 9 scamper back down the stairs with their pack. We're already in the forest again before they've reached the ice and I'm just so relieved, because we made it to the Cornucopia and back without getting killed…although it was a near thing.

There's a squelch underneath my feet and I wrinkle my nose as I realize that I'm ankle deep in mud. Oh, yuck. I try and take another step and that's when I scream. Because it's not mud I'm standing in, not when it's creeping up towards my knees. Phoenix whirls around with wide eyes. He runs back to me, but I wave my hands to stop him.

"Don't! It's quicksand!"

By now it's already crawling up past my knees. Phoenix dumps the pack and reaches out for my hand. I give it to him, but no matter how much he pulls, he can't free me. I start to cry as the quicksand greedily slurps further up my legs. I'm going to die. I survived the Cornucopia only to become a victim of freaking quicksand.

"Show me what's in my pack," I whisper. Phoenix hesitates and I nod fervently. "Please, Phoenix. I need to see."

Phoenix fumbles with the pack, desperate, perhaps hoping he'll find something to get me out of the quicksand. He swallows hard and holds up a handful of beautifully fletched arrows. I'm still sobbing, pressing my hands over my face as I absorb the bitter irony of it all.

"Tea," croaks Phoenix. He's kneeling beside the pool of quicksand and he reaches down to take my face in his hands. I know what he wants and I want it, too. Phoenix's lips meet mine and our kiss is desperate and full of sorrow. My tears wet his cheeks and I grab his hands in mine, selfishly.

"Please don't leave me," I beg, "Just…I know it must be hard, but please stay here. I don't want to die here alone."

Phoenix nods an affirmation and I release him, not wanting him to share my fate. His gold-amber eyes are full of anger and pain…

_Dear pain, oh it's been a long time…remember when you were holding me tight…I would stay awake with you all night…_

The quicksand's up around my shoulders now. Beneath it, I can't move my legs or my arms. I'm immobilized and I'm terrified. I don't want to die. Not like this. I feel sick. Phoenix kisses me urgently again…my last kiss. I'm sobbing uncontrollably as tears spill down Phoenix's face and his face is the last thing I see before the quicksand swallows me whole.

* * *

**Artemis Palein – District 5**

I jump at the sound of the cannon, jerking awake with a gasp. I've slept for too long and…and Apollo's not here. I panic as I remember the Cornucopia challenge. Apollo must have gone to get our pack…oh God, that wasn't his cannon, was it? Oh God…

I want to go up and look, but I feel like I can't move. All I can do is shiver violently. I'm so pathetic lately. If only I could do _something_. After what seems like forever, I hear footsteps crunching across the rocks towards where I'm hidden between the trees. I draw a rattling breath and close my eyes. If it's another district come to kill me, so be it…

"Artemis!"

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear Apollo's voice. He's there with a small pack that bears that number 5 on it and there's a huge grin across his face as he kneels down beside me and takes out a small container and a packet of tablets.

"Look!" he insists, opening the container. The smell of broth is normally delicious, but I can't really stand it anymore. I don't even like to eat. "Don't you see, Artemis? We can make you better again."

I'd given up hope on getting better. I've just been getting sicker so I kept thinking I was going to die. So now that there's hope…I try and push myself up a little straighter. Apollo busies himself dropping two tablets into a small cup of the broth, which he hands to me. I drink it slowly, but notice that he doesn't take any for himself.

"What about you?" I ask of him.

He just shakes his head. "It's not _for_ me. I managed to grab a few berries and nuts. I'll be fine, Artemis."

I'm not so sure about this, but I don't question him.

"So whose cannon was that?" I ask as I take another slurp of the broth. I know it's not going to work right away, but I'm still disappointed that I can't really taste it.

Apollo shrugs. "No one I killed. I'm guessing the District 4 girl or the District 12 boy, because it happened right after they went into the forest. Must have been some mutts in there or something."

We made the painful journey back into the forest from the mountains, because Apollo didn't want me to be too far away and it would take a full day at the very least to get back to the mountains from the Cornucopia – so at a guess, he's been gone a couple of hours at the most.

I'm suddenly aware of the fact that I'm not shivering anymore. Of course, I wouldn't exactly say I'm warm…but at least it isn't so horribly cold. The medicine from the Capitol really is working its magic, but I'm still not pleased that Apollo risked his life to go and get it.

"So no one died at the Cornucopia?"

Apollo shakes his head and I'm surprised. I'd expected what with everyone trying to get their packs, there would have been a death – except the only cannon that had sounded belonged to someone who had died after the feast.

"Thanks, Apollo." I sit up straighter, because suddenly I'm feeling that tad warmer. He smiles – the first genuine smile I've seen on his face for some time – and sits down beside me, draping a brotherly arm around my shoulders. It could almost be like old times, but I don't like to think about anything outside the arena because it makes my eyes prick with tears, knowing only one of us (if either) survive this.

"It's alright, sis. You're starting to look better already."

"I _feel _better," I admit. "How many are there left now? With that last death, that would make seven, wouldn't it?"

Apollo is quiet for a few moments. His brown eyes blaze and I wonder what he's thinking about. His expression has turned so serious and I realize that the numbers are dangerously low now. We can't afford to let anyone else other than each other live. Whoever we meet, we'll most likely have to kill on sight.

"Yes," he mutters quietly, "Yes, it would."

* * *

**Angel Ferriday – District 9**

I lie back and watch the night sky as the Capitol seal appears and the anthem plays. I brace myself – and there's only one face there tonight. The curly-haired girl from District 4. Her cannon went off only a couple of minutes after she left the Cornucopia. I wonder if Phoenix turned on her and killed her, but he doesn't seem like the sort who'd do that. When he thought I had killed her, he sounded genuinely devastated. I think he cared about her a lot.

I'm trying not to think back to the Cornucopia. Rocco's quiet next to me and I wonder if he's already fallen asleep. It's thanks to him that I'm still alive and despite myself, my mind wanders back to what happened when I raced up the steps for the District 9 pack…

I just caught sight of the curly-haired District 4 girl jumping off onto the second storey of the Cornucopia. Dain was peering over the edge, but then he whipped around to face me…and a cold, cruel smile lit his face as I grabbed the 9 pack and started backing away. I had held my sword out in front of me, but I was scared and my hands had been shaking.

Dain had smirked as he approached me. I knew that this boy was a monster. He would show no mercy on me and I glared at him, trying to disguise the fear that I felt.

"You're very pretty, District 9. But you won't be when I'm through with you, I can promise you that."

"Get back," I snarled, trying to sound as fierce as I could. I knew that if Donnicon had come up the steps, I would be done for indefinitely. Except the feet clattering towards me belonged to Rocco and he pointed his bow at Dain's head, giving me time to run with the pack.

There was a sudden loud CRACK, like the sound of a gunshot. I whipped around, but I knew no one would be given a gun in the arena. Then I glanced down and realized that the ice was beginning to crack. Clearly the lake had only been iced over for the purpose of having the Cornucopia there. I grabbed Rocco's arm and pulled him away and together, we sprinted back across the ice, hid in the trees and watched as the other tributes fled. Then a hovercraft came in to remove the Cornucopia and put in its previous location as the lake became liquid once more.

In our pack were two bottles and a hunk of bread. Sure, other districts probably got better, but that doesn't matter, because to Rocco and I the bread was pure gold. We were careful only to eat a little of it, because apart from us, there are five other tributes left. District 5, Dain, Donnicon and Phoenix. The numbers are definitely dwindling now.

I can't sleep. Perhaps it's because I'm almost certain that brief confrontation with Dain won't be my last. I'll have to face him again, because who else will kill him? Donnicon's too much of a coward, and Phoenix would be overpowered. District 5 might stand a chance. The girl wasn't there though, so perhaps she's injured. The boy looks strong enough, but that won't save him. Dain's a Career and I doubt any one tribute could kill him unless they took him by surprise.

"Rocco," I whisper through the darkness.

"Mmm?"

"Do you think we could kill Dain? You know, if we really tried?"

Rocco is silent for a few moments. At first, I think he's gone to sleep.

"I think so. He likes to think he's invincible, but he's not really. Everyone hates him, even Donnicon. Eventually, someone's going to have to take him down…and the odds are, it's going to be us."

A sudden, horrible thought strikes me.

"Well, what happens if everyone else is dead by that point – and then we kill Dain, and it's just the two of us? What happens then?"

I would hate that. It would become another version of the year when the District 4 girl had to kill her partner. I thought she was horrible then, but now I'm beginning to understand. Some people would do anything just to go home. The arena changes us. Some of us became monsters. Some of us become heroes. And the rest of us? Well, this isn't over yet.

So when self-preservation is the norm and it's survival to kill other tributes, even if they're from your own district, I'm shocked by the answer Rocco gives me – and I know by his tone that he's not even joking.

"What do you think, Angel?"

"I…I don't know," I reply honestly.

Rocco laughs hoarsely. "I'll kill myself."


	21. What About Cannons

**WHAT ABOUT CANNONS?**

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**A/N: As usual, a huge thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing! Your patience will be rewarded - not long now until the twists.**

* * *

**Donnicon Wayland – District 3**

Ha, hell yeah. I now own the coolest sword ever. I opened my pack yesterday thinking I'd be lucky to get some food – and instead I get this epic extendable, double-sided sword. As if that wasn't awesome, if you press a button, it also sparks with electricity that runs down the blades. Dain has been eyeing it almost jealously. I wonder if he's willing to kill me for it.

"Will you stop that?" he growls as I experiment with my new toy, whirling it around in circles, "What do you need a sword for? You don't even know how to use it. You'll probably just end up decapitating yourself."

Whatever. Dain can piss off back to his poisoned sword, because that's the best he's got. Dain's pack didn't have anything special in it. Only some chestplate made out of spider-web that he now wears under his shirt. He says that his chestplate is so strong that a sword would just bounce right off it. I had to bite my tongue to refrain from asking if I could test that theory.

I wonder what the others might have got. I can guess, though. Tea's dead, but I bet her pack had arrows in it. The District 5 boy came alone, which makes me believe his sister is sick or injured. He would have got medicine in his pack. District 9…well, they have weapons galore, so I'm guessing probably food and water. District 12, I have no idea.

"So what's the plan?" I ask Dain.

His blue eyes glimmer and I think I know exactly what he's going to say.

"Tea's dead, and I don't care for that District 12 kid or the siblings. So I say we hunt down District 9. Then we carry out the plan."

Yeah, I know Dain's plan well enough. He knows he can't take on District 9 by himself, or even with me. So the plan is to get Angel and drag her back to our camp, then wire her up to the electric circuit and make her scream until Rocco comes, or whatever. It's Dain's idea and I'm not really comfortable with it. I mean, killing's one thing, but torturing is another. I don't see why Dain can't just get Angel, kill her, and then go for Rocco. I think it's a vengeance thing as well, because of the scar she gave him.

"They'll go hunting by themselves," Dain tells me, "District 9 is known for hunting their food on their own. Once they've separated, we'll go after the girl."

For the first time, I suddenly think maybe Dain is _afraid _of District 9. They're powerful when they're together, like when they were at the Cornucopia. Dain tried to take Angel on, but when Rocco intervened, he backed down completely. For all his big talk, Dain knows if he takes on more than one of them at a time, he's going to lose.

I seriously don't get what Dain's obsession with Angel is, though. I mean, she cut his face, yeah. But get over it much? Someone cuts you so you torture the shit out of them? Yeah, it's not the first time I've started to guess that Dain isn't right in the head. The thing is, he doesn't act mental. It's kind of scary, because he has this cold, calculating way about him that makes him seem completely sane…but then he wants to do things like torture people and you know that something isn't quite right there.

"We would have been better off doing this with Aloe," I mutter rebelliously, but Dain's heard me. He whirls around and stomps towards me, eyes flashing danger.

"Why the hell do you think we would need that stupid bitch?" he snaps. "She's dead and gone, just like she should be. If District 5 hadn't killed her, then I would've eventually."

I back down immediately. "Only because then you could have killed Rocco and Angel without having to bother with all this torture business."

Dain throws back his head and laughs, then ruffles my hair gleefully like I'm a child to be patronized.

"Oh, Donnicon. You really don't understand, do you? I don't want them dead. Where's the fun in that? I want to toy with them first. See how they tick. Then I'll pull them apart."

His words make me shiver. Because I know that Dain is sick, sick in the head. No one in their right talks like that. The horrible thing is, I know he's not lying. I remember all too clearly what happened to Jaeka and Alexis.

Jenna was lucky – she got a quick death. I'm almost envious of her. Because I know the day will come when Dain will turn on me and I'm wondering if he's going to just kill me, or torture me as well. Who knows what this psychopath is thinking?

Suddenly I wish I hadn't ever chosen to be part of the Career alliance. The only thing is, if I hadn't, would I have survived this long? Dain keeps me alive because he still has use for me. If I was brave, I would just stab Dain in his sleep and get it over with – but I'm not brave. I'm afraid he'll wake up before the blade would pierce his heart…and then, I would be sorry. Very sorry.

* * *

**Apollo Palein – District 5**

Artemis is completely better now. A healthy flush has returned to her cheeks and she doesn't even need her own jacket, let alone mine. I'm extremely glad, because I never thought she would recover. I'm not going to thank the Capitol, though. They shoved us into the arena in the first place. We manage to find a small pond. The water's not the cleanest so we don't risk drinking it, but we do wash ourselves up a little – which eventually generates into a water fight.

"Okay, okay, you win!" Artemis yells, giggling as she throws up her arms in surrender. For just a moment, we're ordinary teenagers again, not people who are expected to ruthlessly kill in order to survive.

"I always win," I smirk and she rolls her eyes and shakes her head slowly.

She's about to say something else when the smile fades from her face and something horrified enters her eyes as she stares at something behind me. I close my eyes in defeat, because I hear the voice and then I know who it is.

"Oh District _Fiiiiiive_."

I whip around to see Dain and Donnicon headed towards us – and for once, it's Donnicon that scares me. Because there's a double-bladed sword in his hand sparkling menacingly with electricity, and I know that I don't want to stick around to see if he knows how to use it or not. I curse my stupidity under my breath. Artemis and I must have been laughing loud enough for the whole arena to hear.

"Run!" I shout at Artemis, pushing her ahead of me – not that she needs it. She's sprinting full-speed away, leaping over logs and ducking tree branches. I'm right behind her, not even attempting to draw my sword. The leaves are rustling all around us and all I care about right now is surviving.

Artemis is ahead of me, and she whirls around a thick mess of trees. I follow her and the next thing I know, Artemis grabs me by the shoulders and shoves me down into the mud. I splutter and I feel absolutely filthy. Her eyes are wide with desperation and she pushes me down again as I try to get up. "Stay DOWN!"

Even though we just got clean, this is about survival. Artemis and I submerge ourselves in the mud so that only our faces are above the surface. I hear footsteps and then a muttered curse that definitely comes from Dain.

"Where did they go?" Dain snaps.

"I…I don't know," Donnicon replies nervously. His feet crunch around a bit and I think he must be looking for us.

Dain sighs heavily. "_Useless._ Alright, fine. They're not our main focus anyway. Let's go."

Artemis and I listen for a few minutes as they trample away through the forest and suddenly, I'm full of questions. Who is Dain talking about that is their main focus? Why is he willing to let Artemis and I go? Where the hell did Donnicon get that sword?

Artemis is the first to slide out of the mud, grimacing as she slicks back her hair from her face. I know that she wants to go back and wash up, but knows that we can't risk it. After a moment, I slide out after her, knowing just how close we came to being killed. I've saved Artemis's life, and now she's saved mine.

"Who do you think they were talking about?" I ask of Artemis.

She shrugs. "Well, it could be the District 12 boy, but I'm willing to bet that it's District 9. There are two of them and the boy did get an eleven in training. Dain probably thinks that they're a threat."

Suddenly, I'm acutely aware of how few of us there are. District 9, the Careers and the boy from District 12. Only five others apart from Artemis and I. What is it now, Day 11 in the arena? Everything just seems to meld into one. All I know is that I want to live, especially now I'm so close to the end…but I'm not going to be that selfish. If either of us makes it from the arena, I have to make sure that it's Artemis. I'm her big brother and I'm supposed to take care of her.

"Let's get out of here." I clamber unsteadily to my feet and offer Artemis my slick, muddy hand. She takes it and I yank her to her feet, but when she slips and crashes down on her bum, she doesn't laugh as she once might have. She knows just like I do that for one of us, or maybe both of us, the end is coming. We can't last much longer as the sibling duo…and it's going to break the survivor's heart.

When Artemis gets up, I put my arms around her and pull her into a muddy, slimy hug. But she doesn't mind. In fact, she hugs me back just as fiercely. I think she knows, too, how soon this could all end.

"You know I love you, don't you, sis?"

She pulls back and blinks in astonishment. "Of course I do, Apollo."

I nod. "Okay. I just wanted you to know, just in case when the end comes, if I don't get a chance to say it…"

Tears cut through the grime on Artemis's cheeks and she shakes her head vigorously.

"No, don't even talk like that. Please."

So I don't. Because with our parents dead and Jenna dead, Artemis is the one person I love in this horrible world.

* * *

**Phoenix Desoleil – District 12**

I watch as the blood streams in crimson rivulets down my arms. I know that I've become…well, not someone. Something. Tea's death has turned me into a person I never thought I'd become. A person who doesn't care now whether they live or die. Heck, you think I'm cutting myself. No…I've just ripped off the bandage on the wound that it's reopened through all the running I've been doing.

My eyes are swollen with crying and lack of sleep. My muscles ache from constantly being on the move. My hair is a ragged, knotted mess and the thing is…I don't care anymore. Not about my appearance, not about how I feel…not about anything. Now all I can remember is the song I sang to Tea, back when I was only still falling for her.

_Dear pain, oh it's been a long time…remember when you were holding me tight…I would stay awake with you all night…_

I don't feel pain anymore. I dig my fingernails into my palms, but I don't feel the sting. The blood streams down from my palms and drips onto the ground. I've lost Tea, though, so nothing can hurt me anymore. I almost feeling like laughing, like shouting out to Dain and calling for him to come and get me. Oh, he can try and give me a long, torturous death…but to me, it will be a joke, because once you've known real pain, that physical stuff doesn't tear you apart anymore.

_Dear shame, I was safe in your arms…you were there when it all fell apart…I would get so lost in your beautiful lies…  
_I should have saved her. I should have tried harder. It still burns at the back of my mind, the picture of her slowly sinking with terror in her eyes…and me just sitting there, knowing that I can't save her. I had never more helpless than that day and I've sworn to myself that I never will be again. I feel so guilty, because it should have been me in the quicksand, not her. I'd seen her confront Dain and I thought it was so stupidly brave of her to throw herself down a level…so why did she deserve to die by something like freaking quicksand?

_Dear hate, I know you're not far…you would wait at the door of my heart…I was amazed in the passion in your cries…_

I'm burning from the inside out. I hate everything and everyone. Angel, for killing Wolf. Rocco, for trying to steal my knife. Dain, for being a psychotic sadist. District 12, for giving me up to this. The Capitol, for initiating the Games in the first place…especially the Capitol. Now hate was giving way to something else…

_Dear anger, you made me so high…you were faithful to show up on time…such a flame that was burning in your eyes…_

It's boiling up inside of me and suddenly I can't take it anymore. I roar in frustration and slam my bloody fists against the nearest tree, ignoring the splinters that pierce the skin over my knuckles. I almost laugh at myself. I thought Dain might be mad? He's_ nothing_ compared to me.

They took Tea away from me. How cruel, that I should be throw into the arena with her, only to fall in love with her, only to watch her die. I didn't believe in fate before, but I do now. And it hates me. If I survive this arena, can I survive myself? I've gone insane and the worst part is that I know it. Does an insane person know that they're insane?

If any of the other tributes came at me now with their respective weapon, I would throw out my arms and practically beg them to take my life. How am I supposed to live now? Not only with the horror of love and death, but with what I've become? I can't stand myself. Is this permanent, or am I going to cool down once Tea's death sinks in? Will it ever sink in?

I was named for the bird that dies and rises from the ashes. But I am not my namesake. Death is not my salvation. It is my undoing. Now I'm dilapidated, a broken person. This is not Phoenix Desoleil. This is the boy from District 12 who watched the girl he loved die and hasn't recovered. Will never recover.

So I defy the Capitol in the only way that I can. I sing of fire and hate and rage.

"Til everything burns while everyone screams, burning their lies, burning my dreams, all of this hate and all of this pain, I'll burn it all down as my anger reigns, til everything burns."

The Capitol will know what I'm doing. They're hoping that I'm going to die. _I'm _hoping that I'm going to die. I just want to scream out: WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? KILL ME! I mean, I'm not suicidal. I'm not going to kill myself. I just…don't care. About anything. Eating and drinking don't mean anything. I don't mean anything. I'm just a pawn of the Capitol. We all are.

I need to do something. I don't know what. I just can't stand around and do nothing. I'm not normally so restless, but I'm not exactly normal anymore, so that's okay. Then it comes to me and I smile to myself as I stow my throwing knife in my belt.

I know where the mines are, because Tea showed Wolf and me so that we wouldn't run over them by accident. So I march down towards them and fumble around for something, anything that I can through. I'm grinning like a maniac as I grab rocks in each of my hands and then I throw them. These ones must be on chain reaction. Around three of the mines detonate with a deafening explosion that rocks the earth and nearly sends me sprawling backwards. Then the rest go off.

I raise my arms up towards the sky and laugh hysterically like it's the funniest thing I've ever seen, as mine after mine detonates. The explosions could even be mistaken for cannons and I'm still laughing, laughing because I know I'm mad now and I'm not denying it. I'm laughing because it's either that, or crying until I want to puke my guts up.


	22. Brothers and Sisters

**BROTHERS AND SISTERS**

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter is where all the changes will begin...**

* * *

**Dain Winters – District 2**

Dammit. We nearly had District 5. I have no idea where they've gone, and although I'm pissed about not catching them, I don't really care. I heard the mines, but apparently another tribute must have thrown rocks at them and set them off, because no one died yesterday. How disappointing.

How the hell can Donnicon get a sword like that? Why would he even _need _a sword? I've made up my mind that I'm going to kill him as soon as I can. Then that sword will be mine. I mean, I know how to use it better than he does. He's just a freaking District 3 techie.

There's a very high chance we're going to come across District 9 soon, because after having crossed District 5, it's only them and the boy from 12 left. Tea's dead, to my delight…although somehow I don't think it was another tribute that killed her, because everyone except 12 was at the Cornucopia and she and 12 were…more than friends. It certainly wasn't a mine that killed her and now I'm left wondering what did.

"Food," I grit my teeth, "Donnicon, get your ass moving. We need something to eat. What else are you good for?"

Donnicon doesn't respond to my insults, but I see his dark eyes glimmer. He's getting sick of me and he might rise up and challenge me – although I doubt it because he's a coward, but it would be funny if he tried. My chestplate can't be pierced by any kind of blade, not even Donnicon's. So he can go ahead and try.

Eventually we manage to scrape up some berries and nuts and a large rat that we cook over a fire – because there's too few of us now to matter. Oh well. After what I do to District 9, I'm going to be getting sponsors left, right and centre. Tonight, I'm determined that we're going to find 9. I operate best at night and we'll catch them off-guard.

There's a hissing noise and I frown, looking around. Donnicon is pale and staring right down…and I see what he's looking at. A snake has slithered across and is right at his feet. Ha, looks like District 3 is afraid of snakes.

"Don't move," I instruct, lifting my sword above my head. Donnicon grimaces and closes his eyes, clearly thinking I'm going to kill him – but I need him for what I'm doing with District 9. He turns his face as my sword swings down and cuts the head clean off the snake. I laugh and toss my hair out of my eyes as I look down at its limp body.

"More food."

Donnicon blinks and turns to face me with a surprised look on his face.

"You…you didn't kill me."

I scoff. "Get over yourself, District 3. I have bigger fish to fry, and you're going to help me. Why do you think that you're alive when all of the other Careers are dead?"

I need him and more to the point – he needs me. If I abandon him, he would be forced to face District 5, District 9 or the boy from 12. I doubt he'd survive against any of them. I won't do that though, because I don't want anyone else claiming his sword when he dies. That sword will be _mine._

In the distance, there's the sound of a shrill scream and a few moments later, a cannon. I grin to myself. Looks like the other tributes are fighting amongst themselves. There are only two girls left in the arena – Artemis and Angel. Either one of them is dead, or they've just lost their district partner. Oh well. That only means it's less work for me, one less tribute I have to kill. This means there are six of us left now. Donnicon, me, the boy from 12…and three others, depending on who just died in the fight. I whirl around to face Donnicon.

"Whose cannon do you think that was?"

Donnicon shrugs. "The girl from District 5, probably. She didn't turn up to the feast so I'm guessing she was injured already."

This only left District 9 as a threat. With the surviving tributes from 5 and 12 operating individually, it's only really Rocco and Angel that I need to worry about. Rocco with his impossible score of eleven. Angel with her deadly ability with a sword, despite being from a backwater district like 9. Once I'd dealt with them, I would practically have won the Games already. Donnicon will be easily dealt with and the same goes for 5 and 12.

* * *

**Artemis Palein – District 5**

Apollo and I are armed at all times. We sleep in shifts. With only a few of us left, we can't afford to take risks. It was close enough with Dain and Donnicon and I don't want that happening again. Sometimes I wonder how much longer I can possibly go on, because I'm constantly tired and hungry and it's an effort just to keep walking.

"Sis?" Apollo rests a supportive hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?"

I force a smile and nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all."

There's no objective anymore. We just kill whatever tributes are in our path and just wander around until we drop dead of exhaustion, or one of us wins. It's Day 12 now and I bet they're getting impatient up at the Capitol. They want blood and action, but instead they're stuck with us just trekking around trying to stay alive.

I don't even hear the tributes. There's the whizzing of an arrow and I whirl around, just as it slams into Apollo's chest and he staggers backwards and crashes to the ground. Then I'm screaming, screaming non-stop like I couldn't possibly shut up. I'm filled with hot rage and I whip around to see the violet-eyed boy from District 9 grabbing another arrow from his quiver.

With a savage cry, I run at him and throw myself at him, tackling him to the ground. I don't care about anything but killing this boy, or at least hurting him as much as I can. I don't look back to Apollo, but the lack of a cannon gives me hope. Perhaps he'll survive after all. We do have the medicine.

I curl my hand into a fist and smash it across the violet-eyed boy's face as hard as I can. Blood spurts from his lip and he coughs, but he's not fighting back. That makes me even madder somehow and I continue to hammer him, punching him again and again as the tears track down my cheeks and my frame shakes with choked sobs.

"Fight back!" I scream at him, "Fight back!"

I've never been this full of hate and anger in my life. How is it fair that Apollo protects me, only to get fatally wounded? How is that even possible? There's something like shock in the boy's eyes and he lets me hit him a few more times before he throws me away from him. I expect him to shoot me down, too – but he just staggers to his feet and runs away, spattering blood on the leaves.

I'm still overcome with sobs as I crawl over to Apollo's motionless body. He's breathing heavily, unevenly. I grasp the shaft of the arrow and attempt to pull it from his chest, but he grabs my wrist. I'm terrified, because his grip is very weak.

"Don't," he rasps, "I don't have much time left, Artemis. Let me just…stay with you, for a little while…"

I can't stop crying. While Apollo is astonishingly calm, I feel like my heart is breaking. We both knew this had to happen eventually, but it doesn't make it any easier. Apollo smiles weakly up at me and strokes my hair back from my face.

"I'm sorry that I can't protect you anymore, Artemis. But you have to win these Games. For both of us."

I clasp his hands in mine. It's not something I can promise, but I'm damn well going to try – and the first on my list of victims is the violet-eyed boy from District 9 who has done this to us, who has torn me apart with an arrow to my brother's chest.

"I will." I bob my head in a frantic nod. "I will, Apollo. I love you."

He smiles wanly and I lean forward to kiss his forehead, but when I draw back I notice that his eyes are wide and glassy and then I hear the sound of a cannon. Apollo is dead.

Then I'm screaming hysterically, howling in anguish to a world that doesn't care. He was all I had left in my life and the Games took him away from me. Why couldn't it have been me? I was dying anyway! Why did it have to be Apollo? I don't think anything can hurt me more than having him torn away from me so ruthlessly.

"You're in a better place now," I whisper between sobs as I lean forward and close his eyes. "You're with Mum and Dad…and Jenna."

I reluctantly take the sword from Apollo's body and strap it to me. He wouldn't have wanted me to leave it there. I stand up and take a few steps back, sniffing and attempting to dry my eyes as the hovercraft bears down and takes my brother away and we're separated for the last time.

I throw back my shoulders and then it's not anger or hate that drives me…it's vengeance. I'm going to end this once and for all, because it should have been Apollo to live and it wasn't. I might have hesitated in killing before, but now, I've got nothing to lose. I'm not afraid to end lives anymore.

I pull out Apollo's sword, remembering how Dain threw his at Jenna. It's heavy, but I can lift it with both arms. My eyes narrow as I focus on a tree trunk, imagining it to be Rocco from District 9's neck. I heft up the sword with all my might and throw it at the tree. It whirls through the air and smacks into the trunk with a satisfying crunch. I can do it. It might make my arms ache and now I'm panting in exertion, but I don't care. I can kill District 9…and the others.

I yank the sword from the tree trunk and sheath it, checking to make sure that my bow and all of my arrows are intact. I'm acutely aware of how alone I am now and it takes all of my willpower not to break down again. No more crying. The Capitol has seen my weakness…now they need to see my strength. I'm sick of running and hiding. Right now, I'm thinking like a Career. Right now, I'm determined that I'm going to become the hunter. Because after all, I am Artemis. It's my namesake.

* * *

**Rocco Harkens – District 9**

I'm still trying to come to terms with what I've done. I've ripped apart a family. I ended the life of the boy from District 5, Apollo. I killed him. I can still see the pain in the girl's eyes as the arrow hit home. I didn't want to do it, because no one should ever have to watch their sibling die in front of them. There are times when I don't want to make it home.

I was only supposed to be hunting when I saw them. I just wanted to end this. But then the girl attacked me and I let her…because I deserved it. I'd destroyed her life, so the least I could do was allow her to hurt me, although it couldn't be anywhere near as painful as the hurt I'd caused her. I don't think I've ever felt so much guilt in my life.

Angel's eyes widen with shock and she gets up and runs towards me, looking horrified at the blood that's all over my face. I shrug past her and sit down. I really don't want to talk about, but I know I can't just leave it with Angel.

"What happened?" she asks. "Was it Dain?"

I'm silent for a few moments, but Angel's not letting me get out of this one.

"Rocco?" She's alarmed. "Why is there blood all over your face?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Angel," I mutter.

Her eyes flash with anger and she stalks towards me. At first I think she's going to rant on at me until I tell her, but then she crouches down in front of me and rips the other sleeve off her shirt. I flinch as she dabs gently at my nose and then my lips, cleaning the blood from my face almost tenderly.

"You're unbelievable," she murmurs, but her tone is flat. "God, Rocco. You killed another tribute, didn't you?"

I nod, but I don't say who it was.

"Was it Dain?" She sounds almost hopeful, but then sighs as I shake my head. She's frustrated that I won't talk to her and I want to…but this is just something that is my burden to bear. I don't want to get Angel involved with all of this. "You're scaring me, Rocco. Please talk to me."

"It's…hard to explain," I reply, my voice hoarse, "I'll tell you later, I promise. I just…I need time to think now, okay?"

Angel nods and opens her mouth as if to say something, but then her lips meet mine and we're kissing fiercely. She can probably taste the bitter, coppery tang of blood on my lips, can taste the guilt and remorse that I feel…and I don't mind that, because it means I don't have to explain with words. I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her closer, needing her warmth…just needing _her_, really.

Angel runs her hand through my hair and I moan into her mouth. I can't get enough. She's just so addictive. My lips trail bloody kisses down her neck and she gasps. I want her to make all the pain of killing District 5 go away…but it's not that easy. I love Angel, I need her…but even she can't make the world better again.

"I'm sorry," I whisper as I pull away. "I wish I could be someone you trusted."

Angel blinks and there are unshed tears in her eyes. "I…I don't understand. Why is it so hard, Rocco? Why can't you just tell me what happened out there? All I know is that a tribute is dead, it's not Dain, and you came back hurt."

"I said I'd tell you later," I retort, feeling the fury rising within me. "Isn't that good enough for you, Angel?"

Her eyes flicker with something like hurt and she gets to her feet, wiping the blood off her mouth with the back of her hand. She just stares down at me for a few moments and I know I've screwed things up again.

"No, Rocco. _I'm_ not good enough for you."

That's not true. This is just killing me. Why would she ever say that? I stagger to my feet and attempt to go to her, but she bares her teeth and pushes me in the chest so that I stumble backwards. Her eyes are flashing danger.

"Just stay away from me," she hisses, "I'm going hunting. Don't you dare follow me, Rocco Harkens."

She stomps off and for a few moments, there's only the rustling of the bushes and trees before there's silence. I rake my hands through my hair and curse under my breath. Why do I always do this? Every time Angel and I get close, I always ruin it. The thing I fear the most is losing her – because I'm afraid if I tell her about Apollo, she'll think I'm becoming a monster. Becoming like Dain. I don't want to see the horror in her eyes.

Night has fallen and Angel's still not back. I hear the Capitol anthem and my stomach squirms guiltily as I see the smiling face of Apollo from District 5 staring back down at me, taunting me. I place my hands over my eyes, willing him to go away. I'm beginning to think that those of us who are left in the arena aren't quite sane anymore. We've changed…and definitely not for the better.

Angel will have seen Apollo in the sky. She'll know that's who I killed and she'll know that's what I was keeping from her. I don't think I want to explain how horrible I feel, how Artemis snapped like an elastic band and hit me again and again, screaming at me to fight back…oh God, why can't it all just go away? I don't want to remember…

A piercing scream tears through the silence. I nearly trip over my own feet in my haste to get up. Because what concerns me is that there was no cannon – and the girl screams again. My heart's hammering and suddenly I feel sick to my stomach and it's not because of Apollo. There's only one reason that there would be screams and no cannon. Dain has found Angel.


	23. Silent Screams

**SILENT SCREAMS**

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much to my reviewers! For those who have been waiting patiently for changes from the original...here they are.**

* * *

**Angel Ferriday – District 9**

I writhe like a wild animal, but it's no use. As the sun rises and gives way to Day 13 arena, I know that I'm walking to my doom – and I don't have any choice in the matter. I'm scared, but like hell I'm going to let it show. Dain keeps a firm grip on my arms, even though my legs are threatening to give way. His eyes are horribly empty and there is a sadistic smile on his face as he drags me towards where Donnicon is pacing nervously around the camp.

"I didn't know if you were coming back," Donnicon mutters, unwilling to meet my eyes. In that moment, I know he doesn't want to do this. He's uncomfortable with whatever Dain's got planned for me. I know that Dain wanting me alive isn't a good thing. He wouldn't bring me here just to kill me, and I've got a horrible feeling that whatever this is, it has something to do with luring in Rocco.

"You hoped I wouldn't be," Dain replies dismissively, before turning his attention back to me and pulling me towards – holy shit. I feel like my heart's going to pound its way free of my chest. I'm horrified as I see the metal plating on the ground, the wire attached to it.

I struggle violently in Dain's grasp, but he just laughs and grabs a handful of my hair, twisting painfully until I'm forced to give up. Then Dain pushes me down onto the metal plate and ignores my frantic efforts to escape as he fastens the wire around my ankles and wrists.

"Don't work yourself up, sweetheart. All I need you for is to bring your little boyfriend running…so you're going to scream for me."

I lift my head and spit in his face. I hate him. His face darkens for a moment and I earn a stinging slap across the face for my troubles. I can taste blood in my mouth and I'm struggling to hold back tears. Why can't he just kill me and get it over with? Dain seems to know what I'm thinking, because he points to the jagged scar down his face.

"You see this? _You _did that to me. It hurt like hell…so now it's your turn to suffer."

So this is about vengeance after all. I struggle, but the wire only digs into my skin. Dain draws his sword and crouches down beside me, tilting his head to the side almost curiously. I'm terrified of the promise in his smile.

"Do you know what's so special about this sword?" he asks of me.

I shake my head.

"It's got belladonna on it. Do you know what belladonna does?"

It's like I suddenly can't breathe. I know all too well what belladonna is capable of doing and I'm shaking with fear as Dain laughs and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. Then he cuts a line down my arm and I'm unable to restrain a whimper. Dain chuckles darkly and cuts a second line further down. Oh my God, he's going to poison me.

"Don't look so frightened, baby. The party hasn't even started yet."

Dain laughs cruelly and turns back to Donnicon, jerking his head into a nod. Donnicon is looking sullen as he twists something in his hand. The electricity sears through the wires and into me and I bite back a cry of pain. Dain's eyes are alight with insanity and the grin widens across his face. I glower at him, because I'm not giving him the satisfaction of screaming. I bite down on my lip so hard that I taste blood, but I still don't make a sound.

Dain frowns and turns to face Donnicon. "Up the intensity."

Donnicon's eyes widen. "But…"

"Do it," Dain hisses, and I know that Donnicon won't disagree. Swallowing hard, he complies…and that's when it feels like a fire is tearing me apart. The agony sears through me. I can't help but scream, my frame wracking with sobs. What sort of person can do this and still be human? Dain's not human. He's a monster. Now he's determined I'm going to die in the most painful, horrific way possible.

When the pain stops, I only just manage to find the strength to laugh at Dain. "He's not coming, you sick bastard. He wants to live. He wants to go home."

Dain frowns, considering my words, before he throws Donnicon a glower.

"You. Stay here and watch her. I'm going to see if I can find lover boy. If I can't…well, then the real fun will begin." He turns to walk off, but not before he flashes me one last malicious smile. "Don't you worry, Angel. I'll get your boyfriend to come to us, sooner or later."

After a few tense minutes, I decide that this is my one and only chance to appeal to Donnicon. He clearly doesn't like what he's doing and so I let myself cry.

"Please," I croak, "Please don't do this, Donnicon. Let me go. Please let me go."

Donnicon's face is pale with fear. "I can't. Dain will kill me."

The hot, wet blood is running down my arm, coating my wrist and the wire that binds it. Suddenly, I have an idea. I just need to keep Donnicon talking for a little while.

"You're not like him," I insist as I wriggle my blood-covered arm, trying to use the slippery mess of crimson to ease my wrist out. "We can protect you from him, Rocco and I. Together we can kill him."

I can see that Donnicon is considering this, but he still shakes his head. "I can't."

I bite back a cry of pain as I agonizingly slid my wrist free. I reach across to the other wrist and slowly loosen the wire until that hand slides free as well. Then I'm sitting up and frantically undoing the wire around my ankles.

Donnicon has realized what I'm up to. "Hey! What are you doing?"

A sudden rustling in the trees makes both of us freeze. Donnicon turns slowly and I tense up, expecting Dain to come striding in, with either a smug smile or a scowl. Instead, it's Rocco. He runs across to me as if he hasn't even seen Donnicon, or doesn't perceive him as a threat. He puts down his bow and arrow and hurriedly works at freeing me.

"Angel! Are you alright?"

But behind Rocco, Donnicon's eyes have narrowed. He hefts up his double-bladed sword in one hand and moves in for the kill. Can he do it? I don't know. I don't want to find out. I kick as Rocco undoes the last of my restraints, squirming backwards.

"Rocco! Look out!"

He whips around – just as Donnicon shoves the blade through his chest with a savage hiss. I scream and scream as he drives the sword deeper – what can I do? What can I possibly do to intervene? There's nothing. I'm too late. All I can do is watch with wide, horrified eyes as Rocco stares from Donnicon, to the sword impaling him, to me. My breathing quickens and choked sobs escape me.

Donnicon looks – shocked. He stumbles back, ripping the blade free of Rocco's chest. Blood pumps out, spraying across his face. My district partner – the only boy I truly loved – falls to his knees and gurgles up blood. He looks at me and there's only one thing he says.

"Run."

I can't, but I know that I have to, before Donnicon recovers from his shock and comes at me, or before Dain returns. I reach out a hand to him, but he pushes me away. The pain is like a sword tearing into my own chest. Rocco slumps forward and I flinch at the sound of his cannon going off. It should make things more real, it should make me believe that his death is a truth and not something my tired, tormented mind has conjured up…but it doesn't.

I stumble through the trees for as long as I can, but I don't get that far before my knees turn to jelly and then I'm crawling on my belly, all my nerves on fire. I'm sobbing and hoping that Dain won't find me, because if he does, then I'm dead. I drag myself along, my head spinning from either blood loss or the belladonna taking over way. Either way, I'm sure of this much: I'm going to die.

* * *

**Phoenix Desoleil – District 12**

The screams ring through the forest. I know that it must be Dain because there's no cannon, not yet. I know by the screams that his unfortunate victim is either Artemis or Angel. After some time, I grit my teeth and clamp my hands over my ears, pulling my knees up to my chest and trying to shut it out. No one should have to suffer that. Just let him kill them and let it be over.

It's some time before the screaming stops and a cannon goes off. He must be finished with them, or else they just died on him. I'm glad that Tea never met that fate, because she was always so afraid that Dain would torture her to death. Tea…how I miss her. How I wish she was here with me now. It's so lonely being all by myself.

I've tried fishing with Tea's net, but it doesn't work. I just can't catch fish like she can. Instead I'm forced to live on nuts, berries and whatever else I can find. I sleep whenever I can, because I really don't care if I'm killed in my sleep. Hell, that wouldn't be a bad way to go. Better than the poor girl who was just tortured to death. It looks like Dain really is as sadistic as Tea made out.

I chuckle to myself as I cram nuts and berries into my mouth. How funny would it be if a psychopath really did win the Hunger Games? Yeah, I've seen murderers win them before, but no one as cold and cruel as Dain. I'm laughing loudly now, not caring who hears or how mad I must seem. How they must be shocked back home! Mist is dead and I'm still alive. Oh, the irony of it.

There's a sudden rustling in the bushes and I whirl around, tossing my knife aside and spread my arms wide. I don't fear death any more. I've seen it too much now, so I guess I've become accustomed to it. I bare my teeth and glare at the trees.

"Come and get me! Try and kill me, come on! Come on, I'm here!"

I wait for a tense few moments – before a startled badger ambles from the bushes. My shoulders slump as I watch it make its way past, then I sigh and pick up my knife. Great, I really must be mad if I'm shouting at badgers, trying to get them to kill me. Then something makes me think – would Tea want me to run around like a crazy suicide risk? No. Tea would want me to live. So that's when I change my mind. I'm going to live for both of us now. No more trying to get myself killed off…that's taking the easy way out.

I'm not exactly the world's best archer, but I can try. I hook Tea's arrows through my belt and clutch her bow it my hand. It feels somewhat wrong, using her weapons, but what can I do? She's dead and there's no use pretending otherwise. Better that I use them than someone like Dain or Rocco gets their hands on them. I'll start with the surviving Careers and I won't stop until I win. I was never really a killer before, but things have changed. Tea changed me. Oh, I'm not _blaming _her at all…it's just the truth.

The sun's beginning to set. Soon enough, they'll show the girl's face in the sky. I pity her, having to die in such a gruesome way. That's why I'm going to kill Dain first – because no one asked to be put in the arena. No one deserves to die that brutally. So I'm going to make it quick and as painless as possible, just to prove that unlike him, I am not an animal. I wish I could blame the arena for what Dain's become, but in reality, I think he was always like that.

* * *

**Donnicon Wayland – District 3**

Holy shit. I am so fucked right now. I honestly don't think I've ever been more terrified in my life. Rocco's dead, bloody body lies in front of me on the ground, but I know it's more wrong than right. Not only have I stolen Dain's kill, I let that little District 9 bitch escape from right under my nose. She was bleeding all over the place and she'd been _electrocuted_, for Christ's sake.

I rake my hands through my hair and wonder what I'm supposed to do. Should I run? Nope, Dain would catch me and then it would only be even worse. My only real option is to stay and try to explain what happened. Add some crap, pretend she knocked me out or something. Whatever it takes to stay alive. Perhaps he'd spare me.

I clutch my double-bladed sword as I hear a rustling in the bushes. Dain stomps out. I just stand there in silence while he looks around. I know exactly who he's looking for and he won't find her. I've tried looking. He stomps across the clearing and grabs me by the collar, shaking me hard.

"Where is she, District 3?" he spits, "Did you let her go?"

"No!" I insist, pointing towards the wires, "They'd be broken if I did. It was Rocco. Look, I…I killed him. He helped her get out. It doesn't matter because she's practically half-dead anyway, not like she'd get far…"

Dain loses it completely. Not only did I kill someone that was meant to be his kill, I zoned out long enough for Angel to run off. With a roar of fury, he throws me down so hard that something cracks. I think it's my shoulder that's dislocated. I know better than to get up, so I just dither there in the mud as Dain unleashes his anger, storming around the campsite and kicking things, throwing things. I've seen enough, because I already know exactly what sort of a monster Dain is. I saw what he did to Angel and I'm hoping she does die before he can find her again.

"You freaking idiot!" Dain snarls, storming back over and delivering a harsh kick to my ribs. I curl up in a ball as if that can possibly help me, as if anything can actually save me now. Perhaps I should have run. It would have bought me more time, at least. I wouldn't care if someone came in and chopped my head off right now, because at least it would save me from suffering Dain's wrath.

"I killed him, I killed Rocco for you," I croak. I have a feeling the slick blood all down Angel's arm made it easy for Rocco to pull her arm free. Shame that Dain's probably going to cut her into little pieces when he finds her…and he will. Because he's Dain and hunting down other tributes, making them suffer – that's what he does.

"He was _mine_ to kill. They both were!" Dain's hands are clenched in rage and he gives me another brutal kick. This is my place, down at his feet, writhing in the mud. It's where I've belonged all along, no matter how hard I've tried. I'm nothing but an asset to Dain and now I've failed him one time too many. He doesn't need me anymore.

"It won't matter!" I protest, "She's too badly injured to do anything! Angel's as good as dead!"

Dain sneers. "So you say, District 3. But we haven't heard her cannon yet, have we? Only Rocco's? Shit, I can't even trust you to guard an injured sixteen-year-old without letting her district partner bust her out. What, did she escape while you were dealing with Rocco? I'm surprised you even managed _that_!"

I decipher his meaning: you are of no use to me. I want to fight him, even attempt to kill him…but my double-bladed sword is lying on the ground a few feet away and I'd be dead before my fingers even closed around it. There is nothing but cruelty in Dain's eyes as he draws his sword and, before I can make a sound, skewers me through the chest. It's not the heart…Dain's not kind enough to give me a good, clean death.

Oh shit, it hurts. Pain doesn't even begin to describe how much torment I'm going through. It feels like something's ripping me apart, slowly, violently. Dain pushes the sword deeper with a cold smile, before ripping it free from my chest. I would scream, but my lungs are already filling with my own blood. I choke and blood spatters from my mouth, dribbling all down my chin.

"Pathetic," Dain jeers, wiping the blood off his sword before clipping it back to his belt. "I don't know why I even bothered to keep you alive, Donnicon. You're of no use to me. Apart from the landmines, you didn't really even do anything."

The blood is everywhere. I'm drowning it in. Everything starts to blur in and out of focus and I see Dain slowly lean down and grab my double-bladed sword, pressing the button that ignites it with sparks of electricity. There's something manic shining in his blue eyes as he whirls it around in a way that proves he's more than capable of handling it. I can tell that he'd always planned this. No matter how I died or who killed me, he was always going to take my sword. I want to spit at him, but I can hardly even breathe let alone move.

"Finally," Dain breathes, laughing in a way that indicates how deranged he really is. Oh yeah, sophisticated and clever on the surface…but underneath that intelligence, there's a monster waiting. Waiting to be set free from the cage it's imprisoned in, the façade of normality. Now that he's in the arena, Dain's unleashed the monster…I've seen it all too many times.

If anyone ever tells you that dying is easy, don't believe them. I'm struggling just to keep sane. In my last moments, there's nothing peaceful about it. I just lie there choking on my own blood as it clogs my mouth and nose, before everything fades out.


	24. Monster

**MONSTER**

* * *

**A/N: Not long to go now before we have our Victor! The question is...who will it be?**

* * *

**Angel Ferriday – District 9**

My head hurts when I wake up. Everything hurts. I roll onto my side, but grimace at the searing pain in my arm. There's a pair of bright eyes lingering above me. As everything starts to piece together, I make out Dain's face, a cruel smile across his lips. I cry out and thrash in his grasp as he attempts to hold me down.

"Come on, baby," he laughs, tilting his head to the side almost curiously, "Don't tell me I'm hurting you."

"Stop it!" I shriek, but he only grips my shoulders tighter and tighter so that I feel he might break them. Dain only snickers again as I writhe weakly in his grasp. I should know better than to try and escape. All it does is buy me pain.

"You hurt me and I'll hurt you," Dain whispers in my ear, "Stop fighting it, sweetheart. You're mine."

Then his eyes gleam and his lips press down onto mine. I struggle violently, but I can't fight it. His kiss is forceful and rough and I don't want it, don't want him…then Dain pulls back and it's not Dain who crouches above me, but Rocco. I start to sob in confusion and press my face into my hands.

"Angel?" Rocco asks, his brow crinkling into a frown, "Angel, what's the matter?"

"Just leave me alone!" I shout. Rocco is dead. I watched Donnicon kill him, I even heard the cannon go off. There's no way this is actually him looming over me. But who is it then? "I don't know who you are!"

Rocco shakes his head and he looks utterly shocked. "It must be the belladonna in your system. It's making you hallucinate. I think you might be alright. You've lost a lot of blood, but the water's getting the belladonna out of your system.

I don't remember and now I'm scared. I'm going crazy. Rocco's here, but I know he's not. He's a figment of my imagination, of the belladonna-induced hallucinations. I know that none of this is real, but that doesn't stop me from clinging to it with what little strength I have left. There's something left I have to do – kill Dain. He might not have been the one to end Rocco, but I still feel the need to do _something._ I watched Donnicon kill Rocco and now I'm ashamed that I didn't do something more.

The hallucinations seem to have taken a hold of my dreams as well, because I'm seeing faces of some of the dead tributes, doing terrible and impossible things. Jordan, spearing Chess in the heart. The curly-haired District 4 girl trapped in a box underwater, her fists hammering against the glass. Wolf summoning a hurricane and setting it upon District 9. Teryn hanging from a tree branch, a noose around her neck. Phoenix with a bloody knife in his hand, stabbing anyone he crosses. I scream out, but none of them can hear me. Because none of this is real anymore and I wonder if it's worth living if I'm going to be a mad girl.

The belladonna is still laced through my system, drugging me, causing me pain. I'm wasting away. I can't hunt. I can barely move as the fever continues to erupt, dragging me into its fiery depths, preventing me from getting up without my head spinning. I cry out. Maybe I no longer care who hears me. Death might be welcome after all of this. Do I truly want to win anymore? What's the beauty in going home? Because I can't see the light now.

* * *

**Dain Winters – District 2**

The cannon booms and I can't stop the grin that spreads across my face. Only me and three others now. That moron Donnicon was just a waste of time. Why did I even bother with him in the first place? He claims that Angel was practically half-dead, but then how did she manage to escape? It doesn't matter, because if that wasn't her that just died, I'm going to hurt her. I've got Donnicon's sword now as well as my own. She thinks she experienced pain? Well, she's about to wake up.

It's a shame I didn't get to have any fun with Donnicon, but really, he wasn't worth the effort. Pathetic, that's what he was. I don't regret killing him in the least, because there are four of us left now. But who knows what resources District 9 has? Hell, I've got my choice of weapons. My sword, Donnicon's sword, a spear from Jordan…oh, District 9 is really in for a treat. As I settle down for the night, not intending on getting any sleep in case District 9 is hunting me down, I look up at the sky as the Capitol seal and anthem make their daily presence. Donnicon and Rocco show up in the sky, and I clench my hands into fists. Rocco was meant to be _my_ kill, yet Donnicon took that from me.

Suddenly I'm sick of being cautious. I'll make District 9 come to me. Grinning, I lean across and quickly start a campfire. The warm glow lights my face and I reach over to defrost my cold hands. Let District 9 come running, thinking that I'm some moron who has just decided to light up a fire. I'm not intending to get myself killed and if they've any brains at all, they'll know that the fire is a beacon. _Come and get me._

They really should have killed me when they had the chance, at the Cornucopia. Rocco could have killed me then…but no, he was too wrapped up in keeping his dear Angel safe. They made their mistakes…and I'm not going to make any more. I made my own by getting that moron Donnicon to watch Angel.

Where is that little girl hiding? I would go and look for her, but I have the advantage here. No, District 9 will come to me. Because they know that they have to, sooner or later. There's no one to save Angel now. I can take my sweet time with her – which I intend to do. With Donnicon's sword and my own, there's no way they'll be able to stop me. Besides, Angel's probably still hallucinating thanks to the belladonna on my sword, so I doubt she'll be up to the challenge. She'll be easy prey.

There are so many different ways to kill them. I'm going to have a lot of fun with it. It's what I want, what I've always wanted – people to fear me. I'm a killer, a psycho, whatever they might call me. But it doesn't matter, because every one of them is afraid of me. And why shouldn't I be the victor? Last year it was that spoilt brat, Praetor Lawson. This time I'll show that it's the real killers that get somewhere. District 9? Please. They're stronger than I thought, as evidenced by the fact that Angel managed to escape and is still alive, but they're weak nonetheless.

I hear movement and I kick dirt over the fire, doubling back behind a tree and watching in silence. Of course it's Angel. Stupid girl. She's hunting me down for some sort of vengeance, even though she knows that it was Donnicon who killed Rocco. But Donnicon's dead, and I'm very much alive. She kneels in front of the fire, reaching into the dying ashes and hissing to feel that they're still burning hot.

I sneak up behind her, with more stealth than even I knew I possessed, and grab a fistful of her hair, throwing her to the ground. The sword goes flying from her hands, skittering across the dirt. With a cry of rage, she lunges for her fallen sword, but I kick it out of her grasp. I crouch down beside her and toss my dark hair out of my eyes, offering her a sinister smile. She seems unable to move, her head likely throbbing from her collision with the ground.

"No Rocco around to save you this time."

I busy myself turning on the electricity on Donnicon's sword, watching as terror flashes through Angel's eyes. She's felt this pain before, and no doubt has no intention of experiencing it again. She tries to crawl away, but I grab her ankle and drag her back, cutting a line down her uninjured arm. She cries out as I continue to make cuts across her arms…but it's like she's stopped fighting. Angel just lies there, tears streaming down her face. It's like she's lost all of her energy, her will to live.

"What happened, Angel?" I mock her. "Where did all of your fight go?"

I remove the sword from her arm and instead press it down against her cheek. I have a scar on my cheek from her…so why shouldn't I give her one in return? She frantically reaches for her own sword, but it's too far out of reach. I laugh as the blade slices down her cheek, and she kicks and screams.

"Want to scream a little louder?" I smirk, pressing my sword to the other side of her face, a clear indication of what's to come.

"Fuck you," she spits, the fight coming back now. "If you're going to kill me, get it over with. Just finish it, Dain."

I chuckle darkly and trace a finger down her cheek, watching as she turns her face. She doesn't like to admit it, but she is afraid. She always has been and she always will be. Getting it over with and making it quick just isn't my style. Pain doesn't seem to faze Angel as much as most…and another idea springs to mind, one far darker still.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You want to be with Rocco, don't you? You're Rocco's little whore."

She watches me with growing horror in her eyes. Maybe she knows that something's wrong. I wind a hand through her hair and force her head back so she's made to look up at me. To accept her fate.

"You're _my_ whore now, sweetheart."

I straddle her and pin her wrists above her head. She was pretty once, but now she just seems emaciated. Nonetheless, isn't this all just about giving Panem a good show? I fiddle with my belt buckle, watching as her eyes widen with panic. She knows my intentions now, she can see what I'm going to do as bright as day. Who knows? Little whore that she is, she'll probably end up enjoying it.

She spits in my face and I slap her hard, making her groan in pain. I rip her shirt open and I see disgust flash across her face. Not that she's the only one – underneath those clothes, she's nothing too special. Too thin for my liking. Then I see her fumbling around in the dirt for something that can save her. Her slender fingers have closed around one of Rocco's arrows. Filthy little bitch.

I snarl angrily and reach for my sword as she desperately tries to stab me in the throat with the arrow. She screams and thrashes beneath me, but there's nothing that can save her now. Maybe having my way with Angel isn't the best idea. She'll put up too much of a fight. I might get too distracted and unintentionally give her the opportunity to end up. I've played with her enough – it's time for her to go.

I bring my sword down and skewer her through the stomach. Her screams intensify and I stab her multiple times, relishing the screaming as her thrashing suddenly stops. The screams stop too. She twitches, pathetically, blood streaming from the wounds I've delivered. She chokes on it, before finally falling still, her cannon resonating through the arena. Just me, District 12 and District 5 now. This really is going to be a party.

* * *

**Artemis Palein – District 5**

There are three of us left. The boy from 12, me…and Dain. When I heard the cannon last night I was desperately hoping that it would be him – but then up popped the face of the boy from District 3 and my hopes fell. I heard the girl's screams and I thought first it might have been Angel, but she didn't die until earlier on today. I promised Apollo that I would win these Games, but now it's looking to be a difficult task.

It's been hard getting food and water by myself, yet somehow I've managed. But today when I trudge down towards the lake to gain some more water, I suddenly realize that I'm not alone. The boy from 12 is standing knee-deep in the water with a net. It must be from Tea, the District 4 girl. I stop suddenly, because I know that with only five left, there is no point in making new alliances. If he sees me, there's no doubt he's going to kill me…and then he turns.

For just a moment he stares around and I breathe a sigh of relief because I think he can't see me…but then his eyes land right on me and he's reaching for the knife in his belt. That's when I turn and run. By now, the whole running for my life thing has become normal. The boy from 12 is thin and fast though, because he's already catching up to me. I'm gasping for air as I stagger through the trees, brushing aside branches and trying to keep my hair from snagging on leaves.

But somehow, my foot gets caught under a log and I'm falling heavily onto the ground, smacking down with quite some force. The boy from 12 is still coming with his knife and I try and stagger to my feet, reach for an arrow…but my movements are so fast that I only trip and roll again. Phoenix, that's the boy's name. I remember it as he slows his steps and moves towards me. I'm suddenly aware of how beautiful his eyes are – this rare amber-gold colour. They're burning as he advances and I try and drag myself backwards.

If it was Dain, there'd be vicious delight written all over his face…but Phoenix almost looks sorry for what he's about to do. I wonder if I can play on this guilt, get him to let me go…except he knows now that he can't afford to let me live. My heart is hammering in my chest.

"I'm going to make this quick," Phoenix rasps, his voice hoarse, "Because I'm not like District 2. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. Sorry for your brother, and sorry for what I've got to do."

"Don't be," I mutter, averting my eyes, "We all want to go home, District 12. I don't blame you. Just please…make it quick."

Phoenix raises the knife. It glints bright in the sunlight, almost blindingly. I don't try and run because that would probably hurt even more. I'm not going to run from death anymore. I think in all honesty, I've known that I was going to die in the Games since I got sick. Phoenix almost looks like he's in pain and I'm left to wonder what broke him. I don't think it was Dain, but he seems…haunted.

"You're probably a good person, District 5.

The strange thing is, I actually think he means it. I think that he would be a nice person if the Games had never occurred. But now, he's been forced into becoming a murderer, just like the rest of us. If our positions were switched, I would probably be doing the same thing. I almost feel sorry for _him _now. He's the one who has the burden of ending another person's life. It isn't fair what the Games does, to us…to anyone. Why do we give in to this? Why don't we rebel?

Maybe if he kills me, I'll see Apollo and Jenna and my parents again. That's when suddenly, I'm not so afraid of dying. Phoenix stabs downwards…into the dirt beside me. My heart is racing and my breath comes out ragged as I look up at him, confused. Why didn't he kill me? Why is he leaving me alive? Frustration rips through me and I spread my arms out wide, not even attempting to fight my fate. I don't want to be in this cold, harsh world all by myself. Why won't Phoenix end me?

"Come on. Kill me."

"No." Phoenix shakes his head and grabs my wrist, hauling me to my feet. I stagger slightly and he watches me with curious eyes. "It's us two…and him."

I understand now why he kept me alive, why he won't kill me yet. If Phoenix goes up against Dain, he will lose. He doesn't want that. I don't know if he truly wants to win, or if he is just so adamant that the psychopath from District 2 will never get the chance. I realise that if there's two of us against Dain, we stand a chance. There will be a Victor who isn't from a Career district. I laugh hoarsely, a wry smile spreading across my lips. It's not about winning anymore. Not even about surviving. It's just about making sure Dain doesn't win.


	25. Ghosts

**GHOSTS**

* * *

**A/N: Hey, everyone. All I'm going to say is that the Victor isn't always who you want it to be, but who's most likely. With that in mind, I hope you enjoy this last chapter of Blood Games, and stayed tuned for the sequel, Cruel Games.**

* * *

**Phoenix Desoleil – District 12**

It would be a lie to say that I'm afraid. I know that Artemis is, but fear is wise, and I'm not wise anymore. I'm not anything, just a walking shell waiting for the chance for all of this to finally end. I want to Artemis to win, and that's the honest truth. It's not because of Tea, although I keep making that excuse to myself. In reality, there is nothing left for me to go back to. District 12? Please, they sent me here.

"If you hear anything, tell me," I say to Artemis, the fifth time in probably an hour that I've said it. The sooner that this ends, the better. Dain is probably waiting around for us to come out, so that he can have his ultimate finale. But Artemis and I aren't playing his game, we've got our own. The plan is to bring him down, like you'd shoot down some kind of ferocious animal that stands no chance of being tamed.

"I will," Artemis hisses, but then we both stop. There's the sound of something powering up behind us. She screws her eyes shut in apparent defeat, but I whirl around and clutch a handful of arrows in my hand, even though I don't know how to shoot. Dain is standing there, and it's chilling to think that he can be so stealthy, that he could have been watching us for some time now.

"District 5, District 12." He inclines his head and I can see the insanity sparkling in his eyes, a different kind to mine. Mine is the insanity of someone who has lost themselves, but his is the insanity of someone who has found themselves a monster and enjoys it. Artemis tenses and I take a step in front of her, causing Dain's lips to curve upwards into an amused smirk.

"Found someone else, District 12? Seems that your affection for Tea didn't last long."

The attempted verbal barb should cut deep, but if it does, I don't feel it. I just watch Dain, knowing that he is something dangerous that has to be finished quickly. Artemis is thinking the same thing, for before I can say anything, she strings her bow and fires an arrow at Dain. She's nervous though – I can tell, because it hits Dain in the shoulder instead of the heart.

Her first mistake.

She runs at him with a cry of rage, grabbing another arrow and fitting it to her bow. Dain watches her come with glee sparkling in his eyes and I move around behind him. I might not be a good shot, but I could at least stab him in the back while Artemis distracts him. Dain staggers backwards as Artemis fires another arrow, this one hitting him in the collarbone. Her anger's taken a hold of her. It's at a time like this that I feel it's better that I can't feel anything.

Her second mistake.

She's too close to use her bow now, so she doesn't bother fitting another arrow. Instead she strikes out with her bow, hitting him across the chest so that he stumbles backwards. I see my chance and I lunge at him with an arrow in my hand, just as Artemis lunges at him from in front of him.

Her last mistake.

It takes a split second for Dain to seize Artemis by the wrists as she tries to stab him with her arrow. He whirls her around – and I'm not as quite as fast as Dain. My arrow plunges straight through Artemis's chest and although I stagger back before she even screams in pain, the damage is done. It's too late and we've failed. Dain throws Artemis dispassionately to the ground, spinning his sword in his hand.

I want to kneel beside Artemis and hold her hand as she dies, like I did with Tea. I want to make the end easier – but I can't. Because although I don't want to win, although death doesn't bother me, I would rather I lived and became Victor than see a psychopath like Dain win the Games. So I don't go to Artemis as she chokes up blood, crawling on her hands and knees towards me. Well, I don't go to comfort her. What I do is slit her throat to make the end that much easier. It's the only thing I can do.

The cannon goes off and I flinch as Artemis falls face-first to the ground. Dain is smirking across at me, twirling that sword of Donnicon's, waiting for me to make the first move. But I'm not stupid. I'm not going to try and take revenge for Tea, or Artemis, or anyone who's died. Instead, I do the smartest thing I possibly can – I turn on my heel, and I run.

My breath comes in ragged gasps and I know without looking that Dain is giving chase. It's just the two of us now, and he won't want to play games any longer. He will want this over, he will want to be the Victor – and something tells me that I can't stop him. But if I'm going down, it's on my terms, not his. They want a Quarter Quell, they want something to remember? I will give Panem something it has never seen. I can't help but laugh despite being almost out of breath. Who wins really?

* * *

**Dain Winters – District 2**

"Do you miss her, District 12?" I mock as I sprint after him. He's fast, I'll give him that…but he's not going to last long. He's very thin and his hair is sticking out at all angles. "Do you miss Tea?"

He whirls around at that, his strange amber-gold eyes gleaming with hatred as he throws the knife that used to belong to Cassie. He's shaking and I'm not sure whether it's from fear or rage…or something else entirely. I curse and duck, the knife just missing my head. Phoenix stands there with his teeth bared and I draw Donnicon's sword.

"Ever seen a weapon like this?" I ask him smugly as I flick on the electricity. I'm wondering exactly how expensive this must have been. "It was District 3's, once. Now I'm going to use it on you. Are you afraid, District 12? Because you should be."

Phoenix laughs and I can see the insanity burning in those eyes. He's unhinged and I'm starting to see that not everyone in the arena fears me. I'm going to teach Phoenix a lesson, though. By the time I'm done with him, he'll be begging for death. I can see a quiver with a bow and arrow on his back, but they were Tea's and I know that he can't use them otherwise he would have shot me down already.

"Go ahead, District 2," he sneers, spreading his arms, daring me to strike him down. Not a wise idea, because I'm going to. Just I'm going to make it slow. "You think I'm scared of you? You're just a violent brute. There are worse things than you out there."

Somehow I doubt that. What could Phoenix possibly be afraid of? I move towards Phoenix with my newly-acquired sword and I whirl into an arc, crackling and glittering. Then the boy from District 12 is screaming in pain and his left arm has been separated from his body. It thumps to the ground and he's still shrieking as watches the blood pumping out of him. I restrain a laugh. What a wimp.

"Painful enough?" I hiss at him, staring down at him as he drops to his knees almost in a mockery of subservience. His eyes are red-rimmed and his face is grim and streaked with dirt. Yet what I don't expect is for Phoenix, stained with the scarlet mess of his blood and defenseless at my feet, to laugh and reach behind him with his remaining arm. What's the fool going to do, throw the arrow at me?

"You think we're all a part of your sick little game," Phoenix spits at me, and there's something wild and manic in his eyes as he grips the arrow tight in his hand. "But you know what, Dain? _You lose._"

I realize what he's going to do a moment before he does it. Phoenix knows he's going to endure a long, drawn-out death by my hand – but now he's choosing it on his own terms. He gives me a feral grin as he stabs the arrow straight through his heart and falls in a messy, bleeding heap to the ground.

I kick the dirt angrily, not because Phoenix is dead but because he killed himself. He's right – he died on his own terms rather than mine, but that only pisses me off. I didn't think any of the tributes would have the guts to end their own lives rather than deal with what I've got in store, but Phoenix proved me wrong…and I don't like being wrong. In fact, I _hate_ being wrong. A roar, part rage and part victorious, escapes me.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Claudius Templesmith's voice booms overhead and I raise the sword above my head in triumph. "The Victor of the 25th Hunger Games – Dain Winters of District 2!"

I've done what I always knew was possible. I've won the Quarter Quell, and why shouldn't I? I am a Career. I am vicious. I stare down at the body of my last, fallen adversary. Despite the victory, it's somewhat hollow by the fact that my last two opponents killed themselves, or each other.


End file.
